


Arbitratrix Diaboli

by LadyHazelK



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/F, F/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 14:30:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18625162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyHazelK/pseuds/LadyHazelK
Summary: A 3-Shot. Three short stories that tie together to tell you about the Devil's Mistress and her eternal life as the first night creature. Despite her many creations and lovers, none were worthy enough to stay…except one. Dark Vampella & eventual Dark Vampward. Rated M for non-canon/canon lemons, blood/dark themes. AU. B&E POVs. Separate summaries for each shot.





	1. The Devil's Mistress

**A/N:** Arbitratrix Diaboli \-- Latin. Worded like a person’s job title; Arbitrary of/to/for the Devil; Devil’s Arbitrary. (Arbitrary: 1. Subject to individual will or judgment without restriction; contingent upon one’s discretion; 3. Having unlimited power; uncontrolled or restricted by law.) 

Here's my first posted vamp fic!! Big smooches to Cherry and Happening for their wonderful beta and pre-reading work! Any other mistakes are mine since I needed to add a couple more details that I kept forgetting once I got it back.

 **DISCLAIMER:** This is a dark vampella. I do not want to offend anyone, so I’m apologizing now for what my mind came up with as it used what many consider facts for this fictional story. For the record, I do not hold Isabella’s views. SM owns all things Twilight.

As stated in the main summary, all three will have their own posted. I’ll catch you all at the bottom for a little more chitchat so you can get to reading.

 

 **Summary:** “I bite; you bleed. You may fight, but I must feed.” Adam and Eve had a daughter after their two sons. You don’t remember? With a punishment from God as bad as mine and with the evolution of scripture, that’s not surprising. It’s a good thing I made a deal with the devil. AU. BPOV. Rated M for Non-cannon lemons, violence, and dark vampire themes.

 

 

**_The Devil's Mistress_  **

 

            I stalk closer, my eyes trained on him. He’s not going anywhere and I can feel his fear is at its peak. I moan lightly at that fact and in perfect Italian, I ask if he’s scared. “Hai paura?” He says nothing, but I can see in his eyes that he’s beyond frightened. “Mordo e sanguinera. Si può combattere, ma devo nutrire.”

 

            “No. Per favore, no.” The man pleads, hands up, showing me that he doesn’t want me to come closer. Unfortunately, it won’t work. I’m hungry and too tired of searching for the perfect one.

 

            “Your heart is beating so fast, pumping so much blood through your veins at a delicious rate.” I moan again, only louder, “Il tuo cuore. Il suono la mia acquolina in bocca.” I lick my lips in anticipation of what’s about to come.

 

            His back hits the alley wall, leaving him with no way out. I lunge at him, careful not to knock him out or send us through the wall. I’m the master at this, but if I go too long without, I can get carried away. My teeth sink into the flesh of his neck, spilling his blood into my mouth. The first pump always gushes out, so some squirts and spills down his neck onto his clothes. He fights me, like they all do, but I’m stronger. My venom courses through his veins, giving off an effect like the poppy, and soon his grip loosens until he goes limp. I hold him to me as I finish taking what I need.

 

           The sound of a couple of strangers walking by hits my ears. I’m sure they notice us, but nothing should seem out of the ordinary to them. It isn’t unusual to find a man and a woman in a back alley in close proximity like we are. He would just be thought to have paid me for my services and no one would think to bother us.

 

            Now, with my prey completely dry and my hunger sated, I prop him up into a sitting position against the wall. He looks like any other drunken man who’s had too much. Satisfied with my work, I take my leave, moving unnaturally fast out of town. A young woman such as myself is a target if she’s alone at this time of the night. Of course, that would be the case if I were as fragile as a mere human. I’m flesh and blood, but not human, therefore I’m not fragile. You see, when God punishes you for disobeying him by making you immortal, you end up doing anything to make it better.

 

            Even taking a deal from the devil.

 

            I suppose this would make more sense if you knew how I came to be.

 

            Back then, in the beginning, things were done differently than they are today. God made us and He wanted to be involved, so we spoke with Him, praised Him, and abided His rules. My family was the first of all. My parents’ names were Adam and Eve and I had two brothers, Cain and Abel. While my brothers had their problems, I had an obsession with trees and their beauty. I loved the way their limbs waved in the breeze and how the leaves made it look almost like an ocean, even on the ones with fruit. God forbade me to leave my family’s land in search of more fruit. Our land was plentiful thanks to Him, and we never seemed to be without. One day, my curiosity was too strong and I left. When I came home from wandering, our evening meal was to be served. Once I had my plate, He asked me why I wasn’t eating. I replied, “I wandered away and ate from a tree not of my mother and father’s land.” I knew I wasn’t supposed to, but I was too curious and became hungry, so I ate. 

 

            God then asked, “What tree did you eat from?” His voice was firm and I became afraid, for I knew I couldn’t lie. I told him it was the apple tree where a serpent had told me that if I were hungry, then it would do no harm to eat. God turned angry and said, “You have disobeyed me as your mother did before you. You ate from that which I commanded you not to eat from and now are cursed. You will have fangs like the serpent that deceived you, and you will be a night creature who can only survive on the blood of others. All will know of you and you will spew sinful words to all who dare speak to you, cursing them. You are banished from your family’s lands and will roam the earth for all eternity in darkness.”

 

            Suffice to say, He meant it. When God commands you to do something—or not do something—you’re expected to follow. When you disobey, He punishes you. I’ve had some say that He’s a good and loving God, but that’s hard to believe when all you can remember is His wrath. When the serpent slithered up that fateful tree, I was captivated. He curled around a luscious red fruit and carefully dangled himself in front of me, letting the fruit drop into my outstretched hand. I knew to take it would be a sin, but it looked so good. When I took that bite, the delicious juices exploded in my mouth and I had to finish it. Only then did I feel fear, for what I knew was to come would not be pleasant. I couldn’t seem to regret eating the apple because it was so enjoyable, however.

 

            It’s been centuries, millenniums, since that day. After that first year as a creature of the night, things became better, but only slightly. I was mad at God for his punishment, mad at the serpent for the temptation and deception, but most of all I was mad at myself for falling for it and sinning. It wasn’t until three years later that I realized that I would forever be a night monster whose only life source was to consume blood. I had made my bed, and now I had to sleep in it.

 

            It's funny, now that I’ve had a long time to think about it. The lives of the living are hell on earth because of my mother and me. She ate from the Tree of Knowledge and now all know sin. I ate from a forbidden tree and now all know to fear the night. Heaven still accepted her, but won’t take me. Hell made me, but is afraid I’ll take over. Earth is both my prison and dominion. I’m forever stuck in a limbo of life and death, but ruling it all as its dark queen.

 

            My name is Isabella, but my birth name is Lilith. I’ve had many names to fit the changing times and popular choices, no matter their heavenly meanings: Mary, Sarah, Abigail, Deborah, etc. I once went by Eva, even though it was derived from my mother’s name, which meant “living one.” Oh, the irony makes me smile.

 

            Both Greek and Roman Mythology have given me the name Medusa. No, I don’t have snakes for hair—my hair is just like everyone’s—but that doesn’t mean I don’t adore my friends. They serve me well in my hideouts, keeping away wanderers or keeping watch over my human playthings.

 

            During my sixth year as a lonely, bloodthirsty night creature, I heard a voice. It was the same deep voice I’d heard years prior. The only difference between the first time and the second were the words. This time, he was offering me a deal, a contract of sorts. He said, “Lilith. I will give you the abilities to make you better in this eternal punishment if you do one thing for me.” When I asked what that one thing was, he said, “Serve me and do my bidding. I will show you the way and soon you will know. Nothing and no one will stand in your path.” He gave me until just before sunrise to consider, a mere three hours. When his voice came back, I took his offer and never looked back.

 

            His gifts came with time. First came flawless skin, excellent hearing and smell, and a beautiful voice to lure my prey in with. He made me a Siren, beautifully deadly in every way. Next came speed at which nothing could escape from nor see. These gifts are always passed down from me. Later came the ability to manipulate people’s sexual emotions. The good thing was that it only worked when I wanted it to. Eventually, and most recently, came the ability to find the evil in this world by searching minds. It’s not mind reading, but more like mind digging to reveal past actions. I won’t intervene and stop a crime, nor will I change or kill a person, if they have not yet committed one. The indiscretion must be completed before I take action. I am Karma.

 

            I waited anxiously for each new gift to present itself. I was having so much fun with the ones I had that I wanted to do more damage. Temptation and curiosity are dangerous things, I know, and I had started to understand why the devil had done what he did.

 

            The waiting. The chase. The rapid thump-thump, thump-thump of a human’s life source as the blood and adrenaline pump through their veins from the realization of what poor decision they’d made. It was a game I fell in love with.

 

            I’m doing the world good by ridding it of murderers and rapists and other terrible people by killing them for the devil himself and sending them to Hell early. The devil is only the Lord of Hell because God made it so when Satan went against Him, earning Lucifer as one of his many names. His only purpose now is to seek vengeance for his outcast by latching onto a human’s weakness to separate oneself from God, with the ultimate goal of destroying the relationship. Despite the fact that Lucifer is a shape-shifter, inhabiting another to do his work, I was created as his first physical right-hand demon to bring together as much evil as I can. Even as what one would call “damned,” I still do good for humans. Of course, that is until Satan has all he needs for the end-of-days.

 

            It’s said that God does not make mistakes. When He placed the curse and banishment on me, it was like he delivered Satan his most prized possession and a great accomplishment on a silver platter, to be placed right next to the original sin pedestal in his trophy room.

 

            Finally, at the tree line half a mile away from the nearest house, I slow down to a walk to enjoy the forest that surrounds and hides my home. I let my fingertips brush across the tree trunks and their leaves, occasionally breaking off a branch and plucking at the faded, hanging greens. They litter the ground with their fallen bodies much like the humans of a small village I decimated three millennia ago. Autumn is upon this town, making my trail of dying leaves that much more beautifully deadly. The earthy colors of brown, orange, yellow, and red make this my favorite time of the year.

 

            Time means nothing to me anymore; only blood and companionship do, along with the occasional little things like falling leaves. I enjoy my walk and know I’m close to my place when I hear the dirt moving under the bellies of my snakes and their hissing. They slither away, opening up a path for their lady, only to close it behind me as I pass. Once upon the naturally made wall, I walk through the dangling vines that hide the doorway, going straight through the long opening and into my bedchamber. Though the front of my home is hidden the back is not, and it’s completely void of trees so the sun can shine. Now that I’ve fed, I have the strength not to kill my two vampire companions.

 

            “Mistress,” my female love says as she gracefully walks around the corner and into view. “I’m happy to see you back from your trip. Is there anything you require?” Victoria is a sweet woman, always making sure I have everything I need. She’s twenty-two years of age and has natural red hair with tight curls that fit around my finger like a lace glove, hence her nickname Sweet Red.

 

            “Not at the moment, my Sweet Red,” I reply. “Please prepare yourself and the mister for my company. I’ll be with you shortly.” She curtseys and leaves to do what she was told. My standards are high, so speaking formally is a rule when I am addressed. I love a dirty mouth, but only in bed. Formality is a hard habit to break sometimes.

 

            The mister I refer to is a gentleman also in his early twenties, with a strong, toned build and dirty blond hair. He’s not what I would call a gentleman though; always thinking a woman is equal to a street rat. Of course, in this era, many think that; although others have learned that women hold a respectable value. Some have learned that we women are better, even if it took a little persuasion from me. I don’t usually give my male playthings nicknames, but there have been a couple. James is not one that lucky. 

 

            Thirty minutes later I decide that now is better than waiting for daylight to rear its blinding face. I don’t undress myself, but simply walk out of my chambers, down another hall and some stairs, into Victoria’s room. I find both her and James waiting in bed. When they see me, they get up and walk over, waiting for my words.

 

            “I’m tired of my clothes. Remove them,” I demand. Now, I’m quite capable of taking off my own clothes—I do it every day—but this is part of our play. They know how I want my garments removed. A pair of hands slowly undoes my corset whilst two mouths and the second set of fingers descend upon my skin, licking, kissing, and caressing. When my breasts are free from their confines, Sweet Red cups them, toying with my hardened nipples and sending pulses of desire through my body.

 

            James makes quick work of my skirt and it pools around my feet in no time. He kneels behind me, tracing up the outsides of my exposed legs with his hands, while outlining the curves of my ass with his nose before nipping my right cheek. The combination of James’ movements with Victoria’s sends waves of need straight to my pussy. I moan loudly when Red flicks her tongue over my nipple and sinks her teeth into my breast two inches above. James, in time with Victoria’s bite, slides a hand between my thighs and strokes through my folds, rubbing my clit with each pass.

 

            Red pulls away, only to lick the blood from her bite. Gripping her hair at the back of her head, I pull her mouth to mine. Our tongues tangle and the taste of my blood in our mouths is intoxicating. Tugging on her hair again, I force her away.

 

            “On the bed, my loves. I need more.” James lies on his back on the bed and Victoria strokes his dick. “I’m going to fuck your face and I want to feel both of you, your hands everywhere,” I say as I straddle his head. James wraps his hands around the top of my thighs and licks my pussy like an ice cream cone, then comes back to suck, swirl, and flick my clit. Over and over again he does this, making my hips move like they have a mind of their own. Weaving a hand into his hair, I grip and pull it in pleasure. It’s not long before I’m coming on his handsome face and he drinks it up, like a man dying of thirst. All the while my free hand holds onto my Sweet Red for support as she caresses my body with her mouth, teeth, and hands, just as she was told.

 

            “You taste delicious, Mistress,” I hear James say, slightly muffled from between my legs.

 

            “Of course I do,” I say, and then I grip his face with my hand, holding him in place. Moving so I’m eye-level, I lick his lips before kissing him with force. Victoria’s movements don’t stop; in fact, they become more desperate. I pull her down beside James without pulling away from him, and then I let him go so I can satisfy her need. I kiss down her neck, biting to draw out her blood, only to lick it up and seal it with my venom. When I reach her pussy, I devour it like James did to mine. Using my tongue, lips, and fingers, I stay only long enough to bring her to the brink, then leave her to get up and sit on our James’ face. She straddles him backwards for him to finish her off, so my beautiful Sweet Red can please me while I fuck his cock.

 

            I ease down onto his length, taking a couple of deliberate slow motions before going faster. Victoria wraps her lips around my right nipple as her hand goes to my left. It’s hard to see what James is doing, even with my perfect eyesight, but I know he’s doing what he needs to do to pleasure my Red. Pleasing women is the only reason he’s around. I hold her to me, even playing with her nipples, and soon I’m closing in on another euphoric moment. The walls of my pussy clamp down and pulse around his dick. Somewhere in my clouded, blissful mind, I hear my sweet Red’s moans escalate, a sure sign that she’s coming. I keep moving, though slower, until she has come down from her high.

 

            “I’ve had my fill, darlings,” I say as I climb off. “I take my leave. Do what you wish with each other.” I pick up my clothes, not caring that James didn’t get to come with me this time. I’m about to walk out when Victoria calls out.

 

            “But Mistress, you’ve only just returned. We have missed you.” I can hear the hurt and the pouting that must go with it.

 

            I turn back to them and give them a reason. “Do you wish to eat?” They nod. “Then I must feed you.” With that, I turn to leave for my room. It’s time to dress for a speedy capture.

 

            My most recent creations are still so new that they cannot retrieve food for themselves quite yet. They’re too volatile for the hunt and have yet to understand the need for subtlety. If they can’t figure it out in the next few months, when their first year has passed, I will have no more need for the services they provide, nor will they be permitted to exist. They know this and have done little to show me they fully understand. I give the same amount of time to everyone I take in, whether I create them or not, and most have taken me seriously. Some, like Victoria and James, have not and need to be reminded of whom I am. After they feed, they will heed my last warning or they will have had their last meal. I’ve delayed feedings before because they needed to be reminded that we may be damned animals, but we don’t have to act like it for however long we live. I’ll wait to see how Red and James will handle the human. I don’t hope for anything, only for their sake.

 

~DM~

 

            I race through the trees, barely leaving any evidence of my presence on the ground. Sunrise is almost here and I don’t wish to get caught in it. It may not kill me, but it does sting. It was Lucifer’s greatest gift to me, no matter how late into my punishment I received it. I have yet to find something dangerous enough to do lasting harm to me, though I’m sure the sun could if it never went down. I’ve seen my creations suffer burns from the daylight rays, however. They are free to look upon it, but aren’t allowed to step foot into it. I have yet to meet a single creature equal to me.

 

            Finally, I reach the town and see the early morning hustlers setting up for their day. I scan the ten men I see, as children aren’t on the menu, and find the right one. He looks to be selling faux holy water. I internally laugh at that. These people are so gullible. Even for those I sire, holy water does nothing but succeed in sufficiently draining any remaining hopes the thrower has left.

 

            It’s delicious.

 

            I wait until he goes back around the corner before going in for the blind hit. I run up behind him and wrap my hand around his throat, squeezing his pulse points and lifting him a few inches off the floor. His hands claw at mine and his dangling feet kick, trying to injure me or find traction to escape. He’ll do neither. It’s impossible. Finally, after a few more seconds, his heart slows and he falls into a sleep, and I race back to my awaiting lovers.

 

            The man starts to wake as I walk through my door. I call out to Victoria and James. They meet me in the front hall and follow me into the dining room, where I drop their meal like a sack of potatoes. His body makes a thump as it hits the dirt and a groan escapes his throat from the impact. I quickly explain his fraud crimes at a volume only the two can hear. As I go to sit in my chair at the far end of the room, I walk past the long table that’s pushed against the left wall. The clean, human dinnerware still sits there from when these two chose my deal. I couldn’t care less about all the plates and utensils, so I never removed them from their spots. I can see the entire room from the spot in my chair. Sitting, I give off the notion of indifference in order to catch my children off their guard before I attack.

 

            The man becomes more aware of his surroundings and his heart rate spikes, sending blood speeding through his body. Red and James lick their lips and pull them up, individually revealing four extended teeth. The man becomes terrified, like they all do, and starts begging for his life. As I look upon his life-ender’s faces, I see they have no intention of telling him his last moments were because of fraud. They waste no time in their attack as James goes for the neck while Victoria bites the inner thigh close to the groin. The insignificant human thrashes as eight sharp teeth pierce his skin, sending his hot, thick blood into their mouths and on the ground. Their attack is violent, with the snapping of bones from their hold and the tearing of flesh, muscle, and tendons from their teeth. It’s only been a few days and they have chosen to act like wild beasts that have gone months without food. While the first couple of feedings can be this way, they know it’s not what I expect after this long.

 

            When they’ve succeeded in mutilating and have sucked him to a near dry, they stand and pull each other into kiss, tangling their tongues and drinking up any last remnants from their meal. It’s like they’ve forgotten about my presence, and that sends my anger over the edge.

 

            “Enough,” I hiss. They break apart rather quickly.

 

            I fly out of my chair and straight over to them, gripping a throat in each hand. I squeeze like I did the human on my floor not ten minutes prior, only now my fingernails dig into their skin, leaving deep marks from the pressure. “How many times have I told you to read your meal the wrongs you have witnessed of them!? How many times have I told you _not_ to act like a savage?!” Victoria lets out a hiss and I level her with a hard glare before speaking to both again. “How dare you take my words without a care and discard them as only a suggestion! This is your final warning: make use of my instruction, or you have just eaten your last meal.” I release their throats and push them away from me.

 

            Neither looks happy about my chastising, but neither looks remorseful either. In fact, they look like they’re contemplating my words and whether or not to fight me to the death. It may be low of me—I never said I played fair—but there’s a reason I picked sunrise to do this; the light is the final blow. To any human eavesdropping—which would be absurd with how well hidden my home is—what happens next would look like nothing more than a blur. James and Victoria glance at each other and then take their stand. James goes for a knife on the table while Victoria flings her arm out, trying to slash my face with her own nails. I dodge her swipe and the next two before blocking her fourth by gripping her arm and twisting it behind her back. I kick her away and she goes flying across the room, hitting the wall before landing in a crumple. James, the imbecile, grips my hair and pulls me back against his front, then plunges the knife into my chest before backing away.

 

            I pull the knife from my chest, turn around and smile. “Was that supposed to hurt?” The look on his face is one of utter disappointment. “You really haven’t learned much of anything from me, have you? Because if you had, then you would know that there’s nothing that can kill me.” I toss the little blade to the ground, stalking towards him as I hear Victoria pick herself up. “Let me remind you, silly little pet. I am Lucifer’s Mistress. I am his chosen one, picked to do his bidding on earth. There is _nothing_ on this planet that can kill me, for I am the dragon who cannot be slain. I made you of my own free will, gave you the tools and helped you with them to succeed in this life. You and Victoria have disgraced my gift, that of which you begged to have in place of death. Now I will destroy you, for you are not worthy.”

 

            I lunge at him with all my strength and throw him against the wall. The force breaks my wall, sending him out into the daylight rays. I watch as his body slowly starts to burn and I soak up his cries of agony. Before Victoria can enact her vengeance on her lover’s tortuous and eventual death, I grip her throat once more, pulling her in front of me and holding her in place, her back to my front. “Watch as he burns to ashes, Sweet Red,” I hiss into her ear. “I may not be a mind-reader, but I know love when I see it. Your love to each other is second to the love you should have for me, not above it. I gave you plenty of chances to do as told, but your love is blindness.” Victoria lets out a cry of pain, like a tearless sob. “Now you can die with the lover you hold higher than your maker.” Then, I toss her out of the same hole in the wall.

 

            James, still thrashing on the ground, flesh almost charred black, looks over at me as I step into the light. “For-give … me, Mistress,” he grits out hoarsely.

 

            “Your request falls on deaf ears, for forgiveness can no longer be given to you. Beelzebub awaits you in the final journey to Hell. You will see me as merciful then.” His body ceases to convulse a few seconds later and I watch Victoria as she writhes from her own burning until she, too, stops. Like He was watching, waiting for the two new additions, a gust of wind blows by. It picks up the ashes of their remains and carries them into the air to never be seen again.

 

            I retreat back into my home, the body of their last meal still lying in the dirt. I pick him up and hang him from a few chains so I can drain the tiny amount that’s always left over into a decanter. Then I drag him through the opening and out into the light. Going back inside, I take a lit torch from the dining room and walk back out to the heap of flesh. The best way to hide a death is to get rid of the body and, despite my living since the dawn of time, burning is still the best way. Once the fire has started to spread, and the bitten and dead flesh melts away, I walk back to my home, where I clean up the mess.

 

            When all is said and done, I take the decanter and my goblet into my room. I pour myself a cup of his blood and sit back in my chase to drink. As I relax, heal, and regain my strength, I ponder my next move. Living near Poveglia Island in 19th century Venice is wonderful, but I’ve become bored with this place and I’ll need to find a new plaything at some point. My subjects and I have been in this area for too long, hence the commoners buying into the faux holy water.

 

            I need to go deeper into Italy and further into Europe. It’s simply busting at the seams with humans.

______________________________________________________________________________

 

 **A/N:** ICYMI over on facebook -- I’m also trying something I think is new. It may not be, but both myself and my beta haven’t heard of it, lol! I’m calling it a one-shot trilogy. I have decided to band them together as a very long 3-chapter fic, instead of posting each one separately as their own like the original plan was. They would have stood alone if I hadn’t changed some of the wording in the beginnings and ends, lol. I changed how I started and ended them so that it would be easier to read as a 3-chaptered story. I know, I’m wordy right now.

Interesting Fact: Google “Lilith”. I took some creative liberties from pieces of info I found from wikipedia and other sites on her name.

 

Italian to English translations:

Hai paura? (Are you scared?)

Mordo e sanguinera. Si può combattere, ma devo nutrire. (I bite and you will bleed. You may fight, but I must feed.)

Il tuo cuore. Il suono la mia acquolina in bocca. (Your heart. The sound makes my mouth water.)

If these are off, blame my iTranslate on my iPad, but Google had almost the same wording, only slightly different, so it’s not my fault. Lol. I also don’t have Italian downloaded into Word to check it.

 


	2. The Mistress' Plaything

**A/N:** Here is Edward’s story! Beta’d by Cherry *sloppy smooches* ;p

I’ve taken my own liberties of when Edward was changed, meaning his date of birth as well.

 

**Summary:** London, 1891. With James and Victoria gone, and then the demise of another two, a third survived and moved on. Now, after ten years of visiting brothels, Isabella is ready to claim a new plaything. Edward has no idea what he’s in for. Starts out with B, but is mostly Epov. AU. Rated M for lemons and blood.

 

**_ The Mistress’s Plaything  _ **

 

            Since the day I killed James and Victoria, I have created—only to kill a few years later—two, and taken in one and let him go. Coincidentally, Garrett was made by one of the two I had killed a few short months prior to me finding him. He was about to attack a woman he’d cornered in the back alley of a restaurant when I intervened. I let the woman go and fought him into submission. When he realized who I was he became angry, because I had created the one who forced this evil upon him. I assured him that she was no longer an issue and that she’d reaped the rewards of her carelessness. He finally calmed down and asked what would happen then. I reminded him that there was no going back from the change, so his only options were to learn how to gain control and survive, or I would give him peace in death. He chose to survive.

 

            I came to care about him, which wasn’t out of the ordinary, but it didn’t happen a lot. Vampires—like humans—come and go. It’s not in my nature as a right hand of the devil to care more than what’s necessary for one’s unstable years. Once every few hundred years, give or take some decades, someone comes along and tries to stir up feelings I thought were long gone. Garrett was the first in almost five hundred years, one of my longest stretches, to make me connect on a higher level. I allowed very few to actually be active participants during sex or to have the pleasure of fucking in my personal chambers. Garrett made the list.

 

            It’s unfortunate that I just couldn’t give him what he wanted. It’s unfortunate that he thought he could be by my side for the remainder of time. It’s unfortunate that I had to toss any feelings I had away and bring forth my cold heart once again. He needed to be reminded that his good nature was more dominate, and the reason he could never reign with me. As with every other one that made a deep impression like him, a little pain came with our end. Although now it only seems like a pinch compared to the first, if anything at all. The sting is brief, but I’m able to move on nearly entirely. It’s times like that where I always remember who I am and I straighten my crown, moving on to continue doing what I was made for. I don’t change anyone but I’m always open to showing a newborn the ropes, and I don’t take a plaything for myself. There are brothels that house both men and women that I can go to for my needs. It’s much like a human’s ending to a relationship, from what I’ve seen.

 

            Now that I’ve spent some time free from the confines of parenthood, so to speak, I’m ready for a new conquest. Tonight, _Ivanhoe_ will see its last performance at The Royal English Opera House before the house closes for the summer and for the end of opera season. It’s a romantic opera based on the novel by Sir Walter Scott, and I’ve heard fantastic things about it. While I’m going for the entertainment, I’m also going in hopes of finding me dessert at least.

 

            Wearing a floor length red and black dress with black shoes and red lips to match, I clip my hair low to one side and leave my newest hideout just outside of London. To everyone who sees me, it would appear I have brown eyes that almost look black. If there happens to be anyone like me present tonight, they’ll be the only ones who know better. I walk the streets of London like any other human. I’ve been to a few operas thus far, in Rome, France, and Germany, for the simple fact of wanting to see what the buzz was about. I loved them and they were new to me. Times are changing and so are the things humans do for entertainment.

 

            This one is fascinating and lovely.

 

            I walk inside the doors and give the man my ticket—a ticket that I killed another for. Once I’m permitted entry, I continue on my walk through the lobby, amazed by the stunning crystal and gold furnishings that make this place royal. In the midst of looking, I see a devastatingly handsome man.  I have never seen a more beautiful human in all my existence, and that’s saying something. He has an odd but beautiful color hair, piercing green eyes, and a nose that isn’t quite straight that leads to perfect Cupid’s bow lips and a chiseled jaw line. He doesn’t seem to be accompanied by a woman, but rather looks to be here with a group of men, all of whom are dressed almost equally dapper. There’s no question in my mind that I have to have him—regardless of his non-evil past—so I make an effort to make sure he sees me. It’s probably best that I don’t walk directly over to the group. I go to pass them, keeping a few feet of distance, but remaining in his line of sight. Catching his eye, I give him a flirtatious look. I can’t linger, so I keep walking and go behind the curtain to take my seat.

 

            I sit there, people watching and enjoying my time out amongst them. I love that darkness can walk alongside them and go unnoticed. These humans think they know evil, but they don’t. Evil isn’t out there for all to see; it’s disguised in some of the most beautiful creatures who simply act as their mask. I smile and laugh to myself because I am that evil. The lights flicker once, signaling ten minutes to show time. Any lingering bodies filter in from the lobby and find their seats. I’m pleased to see I’m sitting directly across from my interest in the balconies.

 

            As the opera opens, I find it difficult to concentrate on both the stage and the man. I try to dig more into his mind, but still find nothing evil. It frustrates me because he gives off an air of superiority, commanding attention, yet has not committed a single wrong worthy of death. Perhaps there is an undercurrent I have yet to pick up on. Maybe our brief moment earlier was not enough.

 

            By the end of the second act, I’ve decided that I’m up for a challenge and I’ll get him right where I need him. Temptation is fun and it’s a big part of who I am. It’ll be even more fun watching him give in. I’ll be the snake holding and offering him the proverbial apple. As the curtain closes at the end of the third and final act, the people give a standing ovation and I take my leave in preparation for a capture from the shadows. I’ve heard of others finding their mate, and have seen it when I meet the pair. This man just may be the one who holds the spot Garrett and several others have coveted.

 

~TMP~

_Edward_

 

            The woman in red was beyond gorgeous. There was something different about her that I couldn’t put my finger on. I wanted to find out what it was, but I just couldn’t leave the company I was with. Tonight was in celebration of my closest cousin’s first born, a son, and he wanted the men of the family to go out. He’s an opera fan, but had yet to see _Ivanhoe_ in production. What better gift than to give him the closing night?

 

            Through all three acts I was lost in thought and unable to fully enjoy what played out on the stage. No, my thoughts and eyes wandered, looking for the woman in red. It wasn’t until the first intermission that I found her sitting across the way on the same level balcony as me. Even sitting, she had a confidence I rarely saw in women, a poise that was both elegant and deadly. I never saw her leave her chair or engage in conversation. Of course, no one seemed to want to and always leaned away like they were afraid of being too close. I, however, wanted nothing more than to breathe the same air as her, touch her, and hear her speak. I was disappointed to find her gone when the curtain closed.

 

            After the goodbyes from the cast and my family, I still can’t find her and resign myself to going home alone without a simple request of seeing her again. The carriage drops me off, but I don’t want to go inside the house. Since the fight with my father about the arranged marriage he informed me of, our relationship hasn’t been the same. The woman that I saw tonight commands respect without uttering a single word—something that my intended lacks almost completely, it seems. When my father and I argue it makes my mother and sister cry. I hate to see them cry but my father, Edward Sr., has the uncanny ability to draw out my anger, and we can’t be in the same room. In his opinion, as a man of twenty-one years of age, and at the end of our agreement, I no longer have a choice in the matter. I know that I’m prolonging the inevitable by taking a stroll, but I need this.

 

            I button my suit overcoat and start down the street, lit only by lamp-posts. The air is cold for a summer night, and the sky is black. It’s almost as if something evil lurks out there in the shadows, making even the moon retreat. If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve heard stories about the kind of evil that rules the night. I’m fascinated by those things I hear, but afraid of knowing if they’re real or just there to give us the drive to do and be good. Still, I walk, finding a sort of peace with the night that allows me to think clearer.

 

            I’m so caught up in my thinking that I don’t notice the unnatural and eerie silence. By the time I do, it’s too late. I can see it—a woman—sitting on a park bench in the shadows, waiting. She stands and less than a second later, I can’t see or feel a thing. It’s then that I finally understand why people fear the silence.

 

~MP~

 

            “I bite and you will bleed. You may fight, but I must feed.” I hear whispered from somewhere around me as I start to wake up. When I realize that I’m in a dark room with only the moonlight shining into the middle, I start to freak out. I try to scoot back to the wall, only I’m already there. My clothes have been removed, everything gone except for my underwear.

 

            With panic evident in my voice, I ask, “Where am I? How did I get here? Where are my clothes?”

 

            “I’ve had many handsome and beautiful toys, but you … you are by far my favorite to look at,” a woman says. My adrenaline spikes at the sound of her angelic, yet evil voice. I look around for the unknown source, but it’s so dark. “The shadows betray you because they serve me,” I hear from somewhere in front of me now. “May I have a taste? Just a small taste. A finger prick will do.” When I don’t make a move or sound, she lets out a short laugh. “There’s no way out, handsome. I will have what I need from you whether you fight me or not. Now, stand up and give me your finger. It won’t be as bad as you think.”

 

            My shaky legs push me up and once I’m standing, I lift a hand, palm up, and wait. I want to close my eyes, but my curiosity has the better of me. The need to see what my captor looks like equals the fear of it. I finally see a feminine hand reach out and I brace myself. When her hand touches mine, I’m surprised to feel that it’s soft and light, and oddly soothing considering it’s cold. Her hand closes three of my fingers into my palm and gently pulls my index finger into her mouth. It’s then that I see the outline of her face, but more importantly, her eyes. The red irises are locked on mine, and they quickly turn black when her tooth pierces the skin of my fingertip. The feeling is odd. I can’t say that I felt the piercing. It was more of a pressure, and then a numbing feeling. She slides my finger from her mouth and backs away with a moan.

 

            “Just as I suspected. You are delicious,” she says. “Tell me your name.”

 

            “Edward Masen.” Then, because I’m intrigued—and stupid—I ask, “How does blood taste to you?”

 

            “You mean, compare it to human food?” I nod. “Think about your absolute favorite food. How does it make you feel when you smell it? How does it taste when it touches your tongue? How would you feel if it were to disappear?” She pauses and then starts to circle me slowly.

 

            I hadn’t realized I’d moved far enough away from the wall, and that thought makes me nervous.

 

            Running the tips of her fingers lightly over my chest, shoulders, and back, the woman I was looking for all night begins to speak again, “I’ve heard that chocolate is an aphrodisiac to you humans and the taste is best described as … orgasmic.” She whispers last word in my ear, sending chills down my spine and making my heart jump into high gear. I’m not sure if it’s out of fear because of what she’s said or out of the unsuspected arousal I just felt at the same words. I’ve met forward women before, but not like this. “Oh, the fun I’m going to have with you.”

 

            I swallow hard. “Fun, how?”

 

            Her laugh is evil and mischievous. “The best kind, love. Oh, yes, my sweet. I know you have been intimate with a female, although you are very inexperienced. Would you like to see how much better it can be with a woman like me?”

 

            I stand, silent and thinking. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been interested in the darker side of life, yet afraid of what I might find. Now here I am, face-to-face with someone who has lived in the same dark for I don’t know how long. I have so many questions, but I don’t know if I want them answered. I want to get out of here, but the need to stay and see what she’s offering is almost stronger.

 

            “I can see it in your face, my dear. You’re conflicted. Don’t try to run, though, as I’m faster and stronger than you. All you have to do is say no and I’ll let you leave, no matter how much I desire you to stay,” she states matter-of-factly, but I hear a slight sadness when she says she’d let me leave.

 

            “I’ll stay on one condition,” I finally say after I few more seconds of deliberation.

 

            She walks closer until I can see her in the moonlight. Her face shows amusement and then she replies, “Normally, you’d be in no position for such a demand, but … you’re smart and I like you, so I’ll humor you. What’s your condition?”

 

            “I have some questions only you can answer. I’ll stay with you if you answer them.”

 

            “If I give them to you, you’ll stay, so if I don’t want to answer them, you’ll go?” She has an amused but contemplative look. She takes her time deciding, but it isn’t long before she gives me her answer. “All right. Ask your questions. The sooner you have them, the sooner we can play.”

 

            I swallow again, this time at the thought of what she could mean by play. “You have my name, but I don’t have yours.” I pause, waiting.

 

            “That’s a factual statement, not a question.” Her voice has a slight sing-song-like tone to it.

 

            If it were anyone else, I’d roll my eyes and tell him or her to stop being a smartass, but I’m a little afraid of this woman. “Asking for your name was implied, but I’ll follow the rules. What’s your name?”

 

            “No need to get annoyed. I was only teasing, but I’m normally a literal woman when it comes to inquisitions. Anyway …” she says with a sigh, “I have many names, but I’ll give you the one I have now. I’m Isabella.”

 

            “What are you?”

 

            She smiles a knowing smile. “I think you know what I am. You can say it aloud; there’s no need to fear the word. We’re no different than a human butchering a cow to cook and serve as the evening meal. The only difference is that we prefer our meals to be fresh and raw, and still breathing.”

 

            By now my breaths have picked up speed. “Is that what you meant by ‘we can play’? You want me as food?” I can hear the panic in my voice as it rises. _No, I don’t want to die. I’m not ready yet._

 

            She laughs lightly. “No, my darling. While I wasn’t lying when I said that you taste delicious, I don’t wish to kill you, not unless I absolutely have to. I only wish to have you stay in my bed and after a time, perhaps you’ll want to be with me for eternity. _That_ is what I want with you.” My breathing slows a little as I think about her words. I don’t have to die and I don’t have to become a vampire right now.

 

            “What if, after everything, I don’t want to change?” I finally ask. I need to know if there’s an option.

 

            “That won’t happen. After spending more than a few passing seconds with you, and having time to dig deeper into your mind, your most recent words don’t hold enough stock. I can sense a dark and twisted side in you that has yet to be unleashed. You can’t admit it to others, but you have admitted it to yourself that the darkness fascinates you. Even as a kid, you’d lie awake at night under the false protection of your bed sheets, thinking about the possible enjoyment of just walking the empty streets and doing anything you want without the repercussions of people knowing it was you. You never acted on those feelings, though.”

 

            I’m shocked. How did she know these things? “How…?”

 

            “It’s a gift of mine. I can look into your past and find your wrongs. You haven’t done a crime, but that means nothing to me. Your undercurrent is what has me intrigued. Don’t you want to see what could happen? Don’t you want to feel the rush of excitement, the adrenaline when you finally do something that you know to be just a little bit wrong? There are devilish thoughts in even the most angelic minds. We know right from wrong, but wrong is the fun one, don’t you agree?” She extends her hand, palm up, a silent beckoning. “We all have demons, my love. I just choose to feed mine.”

 

            I look away from her gaze to her hand, then again at her face, and back.

 

            Isabella wiggles her fingers and lightly goads. “C’mon, my sweet. Just a taste,” she whispers lastly.

 

            As I stand here, trying to think of my answer, I realize that I already chose my fate before I even realized it. I said I’d stay if she gave me answers, but the truth is, I was too captivated to leave if she decided not to. I remember something my father told me once when my sister and I were fighting as kids. He said, “You are free to choose, but you are not free from the consequence of your choice.” I had hit her so she would let go of the toy I wanted and that choice resulted in a punishment. I was angry and ashamed, and I hated feeling that way. This woman—Isabella—is giving me the chance to finally have some fun and experience that which has interested me.

 

            And I’m going to take it.

 

            I square my shoulders and take the two steps I need to reach her. My arm lifts up and I place my hand in hers.

 

            “Let the games begin,” she says and starts pulling me towards the door I didn’t know was there. As we walk down a hallway, she asks, “Would you like to rest those pretty green eyes or are you up for some fun?”

 

            “Um, if it’s all right, I’d like to sleep for a few hours.” She just nods and opens the door at the end of the hall. The room is minimal, consisting of only a beautiful four-post bed with a matching wardrobe and desk that holds a lamp.

 

            “This is your room, for now. Your clothes are folded and on the chair. I’ve recently fed, so there’s no need to fear, and I don’t sleep, so do not think about trying to leave. If there’s anything you need, you are required to call me ‘Mistress’ or ‘My Lady’, not by my name. You must earn that right.” With that she closes the door, noiselessly retreating.

 

            I take a deep breath and let it out as I look around the dull room. Walking over to the bed, I sit on the edge, the weight of my decision starting to come to light. I hope I know what I’m doing. By staying here, I’m voluntarily leaving my sister alone in this world with my father running her life. I don’t care if that’s just the way life is. I won’t be there for her when she needs my shoulder to cry on when father marries her off to a man of his choosing. Maggie will be twenty-one next year and has yet to find her own husband. It was the only deal we could logically make with him: an arranged marriage at that age instead of eighteen. Maybe I can convince Isabella to keep an eye on her if I can’t?

 

            Makenna, my intended, acts like a little puppy, ready to roll over at my command and be in my face if she wants something. While that’s all fine and dandy sometimes, I don’t want to be with a woman who is so submissive and princess-like all at the same time, pouting and needing help with simple tasks on a regular basis. My father thinks women are only here to raise the children, cook, and make the man happy. I tend to call him out on his hypocrisy often since my mother, Elizabeth, is a strong-willed woman. Isabella is like my mother in that way. I’m hoping that she’s stronger and takes control. I can already see that when she wants something, she goes after it, whether she should or not. And she owns her darkness without apology. It’s rare to find a woman these days with all of that combined.

 

            I have so many more questions for her. I’m unsure I want to hear the answers, but my curiosity for them is still too strong to ignore. I also can’t help but picture what she would look like not all dressed up to perfection, but simply bare. Her red dress at the opera and her nightgown she was in when I woke showed she has a very beautiful hourglass figure, with perky breasts. She did give off the impression that she wanted to have sex with me. The gentleman in me is greatly opposed to this idea, for I’d like to get to know her before anything of that sort. The sex-deprived man in me, though, does not want to wait another minute.

 

            Before I talk myself out of it, I get up and open the door, calling out for her. “My Lady?” I can barely see the door at the other end of the hall, maybe twenty feet away, open before she appears right in front of me. I’m taken aback by the suddenness of it and I automatically take a step back.

 

            “What can I do for you?”

 

            “Um, uh…” I clear my throat and continue, “I can’t sleep, so I was wondering if you could answer some more of my questions?”

 

            “Ah, I see. And how many more of these questions will I have to answer before we can dance?” she asks, lightly running a finger down the center of my chest.

 

            “As many as you’ll allow.”

 

            She smirks, but then it morphs into a smile and she licks the corner of her mouth. “You learn quickly. I must say, I’m impressed; few have had that quality,” she says, walking right into my room and lying down on her side, making herself at home on the bed. I suppose she finds nothing out of the ordinary with it, as this is Her home. “Come, sit,” she says, patting a spot on the bed. “There’s no need to be frightened around me. I won’t bite … well, unless you want me to.” I huff out a laugh and sit down next to her. “Ask away and I’ll tell you when I’m done with them.”

 

            “How old are you?”

 

            “If you added up all the ages on this planet, I would still be older.” I try to think about that and I just can’t imagine it. She must see the far off look on my face, because she laughs. “Don’t try—you’ll hurt yourself.”

 

            “Okay. You said before that you have many names. Would I know any of them and which ones? Who are you, really, and why am I truly here?”

 

            She sits up then, her lusciously curled hair draping over her shoulder. She looks stunning this way, and I’m beginning to think that she looks good in anything and everything she does. “Maybe, but my first name, given by my mother, is Lilith. My mother was Eve and I disobeyed God like she did; only my punishment was worse. I am what I am because of it and have chosen to make the best of my situation. I rid this planet of its evil, serving both God’s children—humans—and Lucifer. As I stated earlier, when you choose, you will serve with me.”

 

_Eve? Jesus Christ!_ “Why do you want _me_?” I’m flabbergasted.

 

            “Because you’re different from all the others. I don’t know why, not yet, and I need to find out.” _I’m different? She’s intrigued with me? I’m not that interesting._ “Now, I’m done talking for the night. What do you say to finding out what my lips taste like? Because I sure want to taste yours.” Her words and the way her voice drops in volume, along with her feather-light touch dancing across my bare skin, have me feeling funny. The sensation in the pit of my stomach travels down to my groin, giving me goose bumps. She lifts her hand and traces my jaw line with a fingernail, leaving tingles in her wake. I wasn’t exactly in the mood before, but she seems to have an immediate effect on my desires. With my lips parted slightly, I turn my head towards her, enjoying the feelings of her touch and coming extremely close to her own face. She leans in closer, peeking her tongue out and flicking my upper lip. “I licked it, so it’s mine,” she whispers.

 

            I can no longer hold back from the temptation. I lean in the rest of the way and capture her lips with mine. Our tongues massage each other as my hand goes to the back of her head, weaving my fingers into her hair as her hands go through mine, lightly tugging. She’s definitely gentler than I would’ve thought. Her mouth is intoxicating all on its own and I feel high on her. “You’re like a drug.” _Kiss_. “We should stop this.” _Kiss._ “But I can’t.” _Kiss_. “And I want more,” I say and pull her over to straddle me. Our kiss becomes forceful and needy, my breathing labored.

 

            I open my eyes when she breaks away to pull her nightgown over her head. She doesn’t waste time taking it off slowly, but every inch that’s exposed has me nervous and excited. When I can see her face once again, I’m surprised to see her eyes are black, her pupils fully dilated. Isabella stands in front of me in nothing but her skin, her slender form free from any flaws. 

 

            You can’t run from the shadow that is her, but you can invite it to dance.

 

            I swallow any nerves and slide my underwear over my hips and down my legs, dropping them to the floor. My cock is ready and certainly willing. She wastes no time in her attack, straddling me again, chilled skin against warm, and connecting her lips to mine. The force of her passion pushes me down on my back. My hands go to her waist for balance as she swivels her hips, grinding her already wet pussy on me. I groan at the sensation, wanting to be inside her.

 

            “Does that feel good, my sweet?” I can only nod in response. “Normally I’m in control, but for you, my blood type is feisty. I’m unbreakable; so don’t hold back your strength. Show me how much you want this.”

 

            Taking her words to heart, I flip us over so that I’m now trapping her, my hands braced on either side of her shoulders. I drop down to my forearms and start kissing and biting my way down her body, beginning with her earlobe and ending at her hip. I’ve never kissed a woman on her lower lips, but it shouldn’t be that complicated, right? I know where the clit is, but I’m unsure what the right way is.

 

            My hesitation makes her look down to me. “It’s just like kissing,” she points to her mouth, “these lips. Just no biting.”

 

            Thinking about it that way seems simple enough, so I don’t think about it anymore. I start licking, circling her clit and going back down between her folds, lapping up her juices when she comes a few minutes later. She’s impossibly more beautiful when she comes. Her muscles spasm, making her body shake with her head thrown back against the mattress, mouth parted. Her breasts with hardened nipples push up to the ceiling, and her hands grip and tear the sheets. I kiss my way back up, stopping at her nipples on the way to her mouth. She weaves her finger into my hair, holding me to her chest as I flick and pinch her hard and sensitive buds.

 

            “You did amazing. That wasn’t as hard as you thought, now was it?”

 

            “No, My Lady. I’d do it all over again, but you told me to show you how much I wanted this.” I take hold of my cock, lining it up with her entrance. “And I don’t want to hold back anymore.” I thrust inside her, groaning at the tightness. “I _can’t_ hold back.” With that my thrusts become harder, my grip on the sheets by her shoulders tightens, and my mouth attacks her neck and collarbones, biting and sucking the skin.

 

            I feel her hands all over me, and then they scratch down my back. I can feel that a couple marks have drawn blood, but the pain is surprisingly enjoyable. She plants them on my ass and grips my cheeks, urging me to go harder and faster. I comply and I feel my heart pick up speed, beating so fast I can hear it in my ears. Isabella lets out a noise accompanied by a sigh as her walls swell and pulse, squeezing me. My balls tighten and soon my body tenses and my dick twitches, spilling my seed inside her pussy. A groan escapes my lips as I ride this high and I collapse on top of her. She holds me against her until I’ve caught my breath.

 

            When she releases me, she taps me on the shoulder. “You need to move, love.” I roll over onto my back and she gets up off the bed, dressing in her nightgown again. “Rest now. We have a trying day tomorrow. And if you’re good, we can do that again.” As she’s speaking and dressing, I raise up to rest on my elbows. With a smirk and a wink she walks out, closing the door behind her and leaving me alone again to sleep.

 

            I feel rather used, and I don’t know what to think of it. I guess it shouldn’t really surprise me. She did say I was here, in not so many words, for her own selfish reasons. Although what we just did didn’t seem selfish on her part, but rather on mine. And I can’t help the feelings that selfishness evokes in me. I did something because I wanted to, something I wouldn’t normally do, and it felt … it felt good. Lying back down, I stare up at the ceiling, realizing that this abduction isn’t a bad thing anymore. I want to be selfish. I want to do things I’ve only dreamt of doing, but been too nervous to. I want to feel free. I sit all the way up now and look to my hands. I study them and wonder whether I’m ready to have blood on them, whether I’m ready to kill someone. If I get to be with Isabella so intimately any time I want, I want what she’s offering.

 

            It should scare me, but … it doesn’t.

 

            My feelings should scare me, but … they don’t.

 

            Isabella should scare me, and she did, but … not anymore.

 

            I never got around to asking about my sister, though. My family has surely set out to look for me by now. I only hope I can find a way to let them know I won’t be coming back and to stop searching, or at the very least find a way to protect Maggie from a potentially horrible life. I can’t think straight at the moment, though, because Isabella is right and I need to rest. I pull down the top sheets and settle in for the remaining hours in the night. I have no idea what she has planned for the day.

 

~MP~

 

            The morning comes and the sun’s rays peek through the gap in the curtains, shining right in my eyes. I groan and turn away from the brightness. I’m not quite ready to wake up, as the night was long. I tossed and turned, thinking about anything and everything, despite my already made up mind. Now comfortable again, I fall back asleep rather easy.

 

            I’m awakened by what sounds like a door closing. Sitting up, I rub my eyes of sleep and get dressed in only my pants and button up, not bothering to tuck it in or close the top few. A few seconds after I open the door, I hear her call out for me to join her in the dining room. I walk down the hall and turn left at her room to find her standing by a long, eight-seat table. She’s wearing a beautiful dark blue and black dress that leaves her arms bare and a hint of cleavage.

 

            “You need to keep up your strength. Sit, eat, drink,” she demands as she walks to the chair on the end and sits.

 

            Pulling out the chair that is to her left, I do as I’m told, mostly because I really am famished. I haven’t eaten since five o’clock last night. I’m curious as to how she acquired my food. “Did you cook this?”

 

            “No, I retrieved it from the cafe down the way. I returned just before you woke.”

 

            “Do I want to know how you ‘retrieved’ it? And I thought vampires can’t be in the sunlight?”

 

            “No,” she says with a slight shake of her head. “You don’t need to know unless you really want to hear it, and you are correct. Vampires cannot be in the daylight, but I’m the only special case.”

 

            “Is it another gift?” She just nods and then tells me to eat. Conversation ceases to exist after that. I eat my eggs and bread, washing it down with a cup of tea while she lounges back in her chair, watching me. It’s a little unnerving, if I’m being honest. “I have a request,” I say, just to break the silence. It’s starting to be too much now that I’ve finished eating.

 

            “Rinse your plate in the kitchen first.” She lazily points to another door off to her side. “Then, we can discuss your request.” I push myself away from the table to clean my plate and fork. When I return, Isabella hasn’t moved from her spot. “What is it you’re wanting?”

 

            I sigh, unsure of how this might be received, and sit down in my chair again, clasping my hands in front of me on the table. “My family … well, I know they must be looking for me. I meant to ask last night, but obviously, things didn’t go as I had planned.” I chance a peek at her to see her studying me intently. “What I’m asking is … well, my sister, Maggie, will be forced into a marriage next year on her twenty-first birthday if she doesn’t find a husband of her choice by then. Is there a way you could look after her if I cannot?”

 

            Isabella laughs. “Oh, my sweet. Your empathy is admirable, but attempts to gain sympathy from me won’t work. It’s hard to have a heart when you’ve stopped so many others.”

 

            I swallow down the sadness I feel at her words, wondering if she has no heart for that, then how can she ever feel anything for me? How is our relationship—or whatever this is—supposed to work?

 

            “I sense that you’re saddened by my words. I apologize if you’re hurt, but when you live for as long as I have and experience the things I have, having a sympathetic heart is impossible.”

 

            “May I at least write a short letter, demanding them to not look for me?” I whine. She raises a brow and hardens her face. “Please, My Lady. It’s the only thing, in this moment, that will make me happy to continue staying here. Please,” I beg. Isabella stares at me, hopefully contemplating my request. I don’t know how long we sit there, me feeling helpless and her staring and unmoving.

 

            Just when I bow my head in defeat, she speaks. “Very well. Write your letter and I’ll be sure it gets to your family’s house today.” I breathe a sigh of relief at her words, thanking her profusely. She stops me by raising a hand up. “Please don’t expect me to do that again. Most of the time I will be cold and thoughtless and hard to understand. You’d do well to remember that.” She disappears for a few seconds, returning with stationary. Handing it to me, she says, “High noon is in one hour. Sunlight still stings, so you have until the sun starts to set. I will deliver your letter then. Write what you must, but there is to be not a single word about what I am or how we met. You are dismissed.” Her tone is clipped, signaling she’s not happy to do this.

 

            “Thank you, My Lady,” I say softly, as to not disturb the monster in her blood. I turn and walk out, heading for the desk in my room. She says she won’t hurt me, but I can only imagine what her rage would look like if pushed enough. I do not wish to be in her line of sight when that happens.

 

            As I sit at the desk, pondering how I should write this, I hope they can forgive me—especially Mother and Maggie. I choose to keep it short and simple, telling them that I’ve found the woman for me and, although we barely know one another, she’s already a better choice than Makenna. I tell them that I wish them all the best and for Maggie to stand her ground if father becomes irrational if her arrangement is less than desirable. I ask them to respect our wishes to live in peace and to not seek us out. I express my deepest apologies to Maggie most for leaving her alone, and to my mother for robbing her of a chance to know the woman who has stolen her son’s heart. Finally, I end with an apology to my father, forgiving him of his decision as he is the man of the house and was only doing what he thought was best for his son to carry on the family name. Ending the letter with “All my love, Edward,” I fold the paper and place it in the envelope before closing it. I flip it over to the front and write my family’s name and address in elegant script before setting my pen down.

 

            For the most part, Isabella leaves me alone, only interacting with me when it’s time for me to eat. After supper is finished, she asks for me to bring over the letter. When I come back, I try to hand it to her, but she surprises me.

 

            “If you would like, I will allow you one last courtesy. Since I’m going out of my way to give you this closure, I may as well do it fully. If you wish, you may accompany me on the way. If you wish to deliver it in person, I will be by your side so they may have the impression that you are in no danger. If you don’t want to see them, either myself or you can place the letter through the mail slot.”

 

            I thank her for her generosity and agree to come with to say goodbye to my family. We take our leave then, and walk into town where we find an available carriage. We sit in comfortable silence until we reach the house I used to call home. Isabella instructs the driver to wait, as we won’t be long and will have some trunks. I pause at the walkway in front and take a deep breath, unsure of how this will go. Once at the door, I try the latch. The door opens, so someone must home.

 

            “Mother? Father? Maggie?”

 

            “Edward!” My mother comes rushing out of the study, Maggie and Father on her heels. She embraces me in a tight hug. “Oh, thank heavens, you’re all right! I’ve been worried sick this past day. Where have you been? Why didn’t you come home?” She takes a step back, a worried motherly glare on her face. It’s then that she notices the beautiful woman behind me. “Oh, dear! My apologies. I didn’t realize you had come with such a beautiful friend. Do make the proper introductions.”

 

            I clear my throat and reach a hand back, hoping Isabella plays along. I’m relieved when she takes it in her own, walking up to stand beside me. “This is Isabella. Although we haven’t spent much time together, she has my heart. I came by to give you this letter and to collect my clothes, as I will no longer be staying here. This also means that I will not be marrying Miss Barlow.” I look briefly to Isabella and ask her if she could pack my clothes. I’m happy that she agrees, even if I can see a slight spark in her eyes, telling me that she isn’t happy about my request. I assume she’s only doing it to keep up appearances and to hurry this along. I doubt it will ever happen again.

 

            “Makenna is your bride, Edward,” my father states with controlled anger. “I have already drawn up the documentation for your nuptials. If you don’t leave this woman now and marry the one you are intended to, you will dishonor your family.”

 

            “I’m sorry, but I will not continue to let you rule my life.” I turn to look at my sister, who has tears in her eyes. “Please don’t cry, Maggie. I love you and I am truly sorry to leave you like this.” I give her a short, but tight hug.

 

            “It’s quite all right,” she mumbles into my jacket, and then pulls back. “Father’s choice isn’t all that bad. Charles is a handsome gentleman and a banker. He seems like a good man.” I nod and see Isabella emerge from the hall at the top of the stairs. It’s time to go. Excusing myself, I climb the steps two at a time. Picking up the two large suitcases, I make my way back down to front door.

 

            With Isabella next to me, I give my mother the letter, telling her I love her. I turn us around when my father starts to yell again. “You are a disappointment to my good name—” he starts, but is drowned out by my mother and sister trying to get him to calm down.

 

            When we get outside and away from my old life, I can finally breathe. While I feel saddened by the way my father acted, I’m not surprised. I have enough closure, knowing my mother and sister are on my side, and that’s all I need. We load my luggage onto the carriage, but don’t get in. Instead, Isabella pays the driver to have him deliver the luggage to her address and to have it left by the front door. She also threatens him to ensure it arrives. He starts his journey and Isabella loops her arm through mine to make me walk with her. As we’re walking, I notice she never lets go of my arm. This excites me, even if I don’t know her true reason.

 

            As if sensing my slightly lighter mood, she speaks. “I’m in the mood for some fun.” I look to her then, seeing a devilish smirk playing on her lips. “What do you say, my sweet? Do you want to play?”

 

            “Depends on what you mean by ‘play’?” I ask.

 

            “I do very bad things, and I do them well. Would you like to see how well?” When I show hesitation, she stops our walk and makes me face her. Her voice drops to a sensually low level. “Don’t forget that I know you. I’ve picked through your brain and seen all your curiosities, desires, and fantasies. You’ve just been freed from your mundane and controlled life. You have no obligation to hold back from who you want to be any longer.” She rises to her tiptoes and brings her face closer to mine. When she speaks her next words, her voice is just above a whisper and her lips ghost over mine, tempting me. “Give in to it; indulge in a little fun. Benefit from the feelings I know it’ll ignite, and then …” She flicks my top lip with her tongue, pulling away when I try to kiss her. “Then, bask in the rewards I will give you.”

 

            My answer is whispered into her mouth before I crash my lips to hers, tangling my tongue with hers in a heated kiss. It’s a good thing she pulls away to break up our moment before I take her on the street for all to see. I immediately sober up at that thought. The way she makes me want her, without a care of where we are, is toxic. They say the devil isn’t some red guy with horns and a tail, but is beautiful and disguised as everything you’ve ever wished for. Isabella is the devil incarnate. I cannot beat her for she cannot be stopped.

 

            I’m about to give her my soul, and I can only hope I don’t come to regret it.

 

            I swallow and lick my lips before submitting. “I swear, Mistress, when our lips touch I can taste the rest of my life. Your lips are like wine, and I want to get so drunk I can’t remember my name. I know you’re a forward woman, so I assume you won’t be offended by my forwardness. I want you to show me what you are and help me see what it’ll be like. I want to be selfish, but I want to be selfish with you at your side for as long as you’ll let me.” I’m in danger of becoming obsessed with her, if I haven’t already, and I don’t want to stop it.

 

            A dark look passes over her face. Her pupils dilate and her mouth twists into an evil smile I have not yet seen from her. She wants to play and I’ve just given her the best answer: the one she wanted. My Lady looks around quickly, and then takes me by the elbow to start walking. It’s not long before I notice that we’ve been following a certain man.

 

            When the man comes to a stop before crossing the street, Isabella calls out to him. “Excuse me, Sir? I believe you dropped something.” He turns towards us and is about to say something, presumably in regards to what he dropped, but he never gets the opportunity. Isabella grabs him by the neck and pushes him against the wall of a building closest to her.

 

            “Whoa! Wait … My Lady!” I say, surprised at her openness. “I thought you’d already fed?”

 

            “True, but you just gave me those words and he’s raped a poor hooker. Sure, selling herself for sex is her profession, but I can see she had refused him. Can I kill him, now?”

 

            “Mistress, please. I did not think you’d do it so quickly since we’re still out in the open.” I say, trying to reason with her.

 

            “Just a little bit?” she says with a playful pout, hand still around the man’s throat.

 

             I try to think quickly, but I have to admit, I’m curious as to how she feeds. Is it elegant like she presents herself? Is it gory like a starved homeless man eating his first hot meal in days? She can see my hesitation is partly based on interest. I sigh and nod, giving in. She smiles again. This time her fangs fully extended, and then she bites. A fast squirt of crimson hits the wall as her teeth pierce the man’s flesh. He struggles, but soon doesn’t have the strength to hold on. It’s over faster than I thought it would be. When she turns to face me, traces of blood drip from the corners of her mouth, leaving evidence trailing down her chin.

 

            “Come. See what I am and what you will become.” I walk over, a bundle of nerves as my breathing has picked up from watching her kill the man. It wasn’t terrifying, but it wasn’t pleasant either. When I reach her, I look at the now blood-drained man that had supposedly raped someone. “I did not drain him fully as, stated by you, I have already fed. Drinking too much for us is the same as a human overindulging in their food. He is dead, though; too dead for his body to naturally make more and too dead to change. Do not be afraid to touch him. You need to see where I bit as it is the fastest and easiest to feed from. I will show you again when you’ve changed and are ready for your first feeding.”

 

            I bend down, squatting next to the body, inspecting his neck. Four deep holes can be seen and if I were to wipe the remaining blood away, there might be indentations from the other, non-piercing teeth. To touch or not to touch, I cannot be sure, but I decide to let go of my hesitations. Lifting a hand, I wipe the blood from his neck, revealing the holes and other dents I thought to be there. I study it, trying to imprint it on my mind for later. It really isn’t as horrifying as I made it out to be, and neither is the blood I see on my fingers.

 

            “We need to leave, my love. We have already stayed too long for my liking.” She tugs on my arm, pulling me to stand before we briskly walk away from the scene. She’s wiped the blood from her face, but my hand is still partially coated. I discreetly rub my bloody fingers together by my side, trying to get the feel of it and to hopefully become used to the texture. I should have known better since Isabella just knows. She looks up at me and asks, “How does it feel?” I say that it feels weird, but not as bad as I thought. I kind of like it. She smirks and turns back to look straight ahead, then replies, “We’ll make a criminal out of you yet. Are you ready to change, or would you like a little more time as a human?”

 

            “Are you in a rush to change me?” I ask. I haven’t decided, yet, on when I want to join her.

 

            “I’d be lying if I said no, my Edward. I don’t generally change people unless they ask me to. You are the only exception I have made in all my existence. You’ve never committed a deadly crime, but secretly want to. I just can’t pass over the chance to create an eternity of fun.”

 

            We spend the rest of our walk back to her house in silence. I have no idea where her mind is at, but I know where mine is. I can’t stop thinking about turning and whether I’m ready right now or not. I know I wasn’t ready last night, but I guess there’s no reason to delay the inevitable. I’ve said goodbye to my family and, although I have one last semester at the university that I most likely won’t complete now, I have nothing holding me back from this change any longer. When we arrive at the house and have brought in my belongings, I bite the bullet.

 

“Mistress. I, uh, I think I’m ready.” She looks at me with a blank expression, so I clarify, “Ready to be with you, like you … tonight.”

 

            She nods once, asking me to follow her. She leads me into her room and tells me to remove my clothing. As she starts to undo her own, she begins to inform me of some things. “When I pierce your soft flesh, I will push as much of my venom into your veins as I can. Your heart will pump the venom through your body, essentially burning away most of your blood. It will take three days for you to officially die and be reborn as a vampire. From those I’ve asked who remember the pain, they say that it’s less when the bite happens than it is at their euphoric peek.” I look over at her at those last two words, and I don’t regret it. Her outer clothes have been shed, leaving her in a dark blue corset with lace overlay and a skirt that leaves little to the imagination. She still has her stockings on, held up by the straps at the bottom of her corset, and appears to be missing a certain garment. “Do you like what you see?” I nod because I’d be an idiot if I didn’t. The strain in my pants does little to hide that fact. “Good. Now, hurry yourself or you’ll have one less pair left to wear when you wake.” I finish removing my clothes and lie on her bed when she tells me.

 

            “Now, close your eyes and just feel. There’s nothing to worry about. I’m going to make you feel good, and then you will show me the same respects in return by letting me take pleasure from you.” Her voice is seductive and I believe every word. I breathe deeply, in and out, as she draws on my skin with the tips of her fingers, goosed flesh appearing in their wake. Next, I feel her clothes as she leans over to kiss my thighs, hips, and stomach. She even licks and flicks my own nipples, something I never thought to be included into a man’s arousal, but that I’m so glad to know about now.

 

            She moves up my body until she’s fully over my hips, my erection trapped between us. She starts to grind on me, hands braced on my chest, and I have to touch her. Opening my eyes, I start at her knees, running my hands up and down her thighs as she works herself up. Her movements are rhythmic and I can’t take it anymore. I grip her hips and push her down hard as I push up, making a little gasp slip between her delicious lips. She moves her hips just right and I slide in. The colder temperature is nothing when she’s so wet and glides up and down on me.

 

            I sit up, holding her to me as I kiss and bite her neck, her hands holding my head to her. While my one hand stays wrapped around her back, holding her hip, my other goes to her breast to play with her nipple. Then, I lower my head to her hardened bud, sucking it into my mouth to nibble and flick. Her swivels never stop and neither does the pleasure. She gives my hair a tug and I release her breast. My mistress pushes me back down on my back and begins to move faster as she starts her chase to bliss. I lick my thumb and bring it to her clit, rubbing it in fast circles. Her orgasm crashes through a few short moments later, squeezing and pulsing around my dick. She doesn’t slow down, though, and it feels like she’s chasing another.

 

            “Mistress,” I grit out, pitifully. “I won’t be able to hold out if you come again so soon.”

 

            “That’s my intention, my love,” she says lowly. She keeps the pace and is about to come when she speaks. “I knew what you were from the beginning. I could see it in your mind and smell it in your blood. You were born to spill blood, Edward, and you were born to spill it with me.” Her pussy walls clamp down, squeezing me harder than before and I can’t stop it. My head digs into the pillow, exposing my neck, as my release seems to go through my entire body. I can feel Isabella still moving as she leans down and bites my neck.

 

            I’m still riding my high, so the pain isn’t as noticeable as the sudden numbness I feel in my jaw, and then in my shoulders. Before I know it, I can’t feel or see anything, my eyelids having closed on their own. I can’t move or even speak, but I can still hear.

 

            “They say I am powerful. They say I am the darkness. They say I instill fear into the hearts of many. All true, but it’s even said that the Devil himself is afraid of me. Now he can be afraid of one more.” There’s the sound of rustling, like that of fabric moving. It’s sounds like she got off of the bed because the next time I hear her voice, its farther away. “You and me and the devil make three. Together, we’ll leave crimson footprints on the world and rule the darkness for eternity. No one will defy us, for we are the chosen.” The next thing I know, my eyelids have been lifted and Isabella’s gorgeous face comes into view. “I’ll see you when you wake in three days, my love. I’ll have your first meal waiting.”

 

~MP~

 

            For three days I’ve been in some sort of limbo, stuck between life and death. For seventy-two hours I have gone from riding a post-coital high to physically dying. I felt like a massive weight was pressing down on my entire body, making it impossible to breathe, move, or speak. For four thousand, three hundred and twenty minutes, I went from the numbness of her bite to feeling like I was set on fire, but was burning from the inside out. For two hundred, fifty-nine thousand, two hundred seconds, my body went through a nightmare that I could not wake up from.

 

            I went from breathing air to not needing it; hearing her voice, then nothing, to hearing several different ones that didn’t seem to go away. When the burning had subsided, a soothing cool came over me like a blanket, and soon made me feel comfortable. I could almost think clearly, then, but still couldn’t move. The other voices, though, dwindled down to two. One of those voices always seemed to be scared and chaotic, and masculine; and the other is controlled and evil, and feminine.

 

_God, her voice. I don’t think she’ll ever understand what it does to me._

 

            “His heart has stopped,” I hear from her lips. “He’ll be here soon, and then you won’t be.” She’s talking to someone else in the room. Who?

 

            All of a sudden, I smell it. The blood is enough to make my mouth water and my throat burn like it did before. I have to quench it. My eyes snap open and I sit up, noticing that no one is in the same room as me. The burning is strong, so I run out in search of the thing that will make it disappear. I’m there before I know it, but I can’t reach it. Isabella stops me at the door and I’m surprised by the effort it takes her. I stop struggling in her grip, but stay tensed.

 

            I growl, frustrated that I can’t take it. “I need it,” I say through clenched teeth.

 

            “I know, my love. I just have a couple things to tell you. _Relax._ ” I look down to her, noticing her flawless beauty for the first time through these eyes. I relax a little more, but not completely.

 

            “I’m as relaxed as I can be, Mistress,” I grit out. She looks at me slightly confused, but when she speaks again, my eyes have gone back to the chained man in the corner, a bite mark on his neck.

 

_"That’s odd.”_

 

            “What’s odd? Can I please eat, Mistress?” I ask, starting to shake as the determination to please her and the drive to finally dowse the burning clash.

 

            “Don’t worry about that now. You may feed.” she releases her hold and I lunge for the blood source.

 

            With the hands and feet bound, the human has no way to try and fight me. His blood gushes into my mouth and I swallow as fast as I can, trying to cool the burning quickly and sating my hunger. When I’ve drained him, the man becomes limp, dangling there when I step away. Blood coats half of my face and drips from my mouth onto my chest. I turn back to my mistress to find her void of emotion. Her face shows nothing, no sinister smile or even a lust-filled smirk.

 

_"Not bad for the first feeding.”_

 

            I hear it, plain as day, yet her lips don’t move. “I heard that, but … how? And thank you, Mistress.”

 

            “I’m unsure, but I can only assume it’s your given gift. Not many get one, but it’s not uncommon. You’re a mind reader.”

 

_Wow. That’s pretty useful._

 

            “A warning, though: don’t ever try to get inside my head. It’s too dark for you.”

 

            “But, My Lady,” I say quickly, before dropping my voice down and staring her directly in the eyes as I walk towards her, “I _want_ you to show me every twisted, frightening thought you’ve ever had. I want your eyes to crack my now unbreakable bones, and I want your words to tear my skin apart.” By the time I’ve finished talking I’m in front of her and her eyes have fully dilated. My words have done something to her and I can truly see her fighting her thoughts. They’ve aroused her, but she doesn’t want them to affect her. Our roles have switched, it seems. With my vampire change, it looks like my words have the same effect as her words had on me as a human.

 

            I love it and so does she; she just refuses to admit it.

 

            She pulls my mouth to hers in a fierce kiss, licking and biting my lips when our tongues stop touching. She pulls away, holding my jaw. “You want me to show you my wicked and twisted thoughts? Then, I will show you.”

 

            She stares me in the eyes and then thinks, _“We are a new breed rising with fire in our eyes. We don’t fear anything because we’ve already died.”_  

 

**A/N:** I did some research and _Ivanhoe_ is a real book and real opera that premiered and opened the Royal English Opera House on January 31, 1891. Google it and you’ll find it. You may have to google “what is the book Ivanhoe about” separately like I did to know what it’s about. If you get lost in reading it, don’t worry because I did too, lol. Robin Hood is in it and I couldn’t help but visualize “Robin Hood: Men in Tights” tbh, lol. I’m sure that’s not how it really is, but…yeah. That’s the only Robin Hood movie I’ve actually seen, other than the old Disney cartoon version, lol!


	3. Our Violent Delights

**A/N:** As always, I’m sending all my love to Cherry for her awesome beta skills! Cyber ass slaps for your hard work on these three parts! My awesome pre-reader has been uber busy, so she wasn’t able to chat me up about this one or Part 2. *sad face* But, she always has my love, too!

 

 **Summary:** Embracing the life of a vampire was easy for Edward, especially when the feelings between sire and sired excel way above the norm. But even vampires aren’t immune to jealousy, not when the Mistress finds her mate. AU. Rated M for lemons and dark themes, perhaps some Possessiveward? Lol. 

 

**_ Our Violent Delights  _ **

 

            As a human, I remember the blushing of women who were attracted to my looks, or when my father would get angry. I used to hate the latter. Now, as a vampire, I crave the physical reaction when a person experiences certain emotions; when their blood rises to just below the surface of their skin. Venom pools in my mouth and my fangs start to extend just thinking about it.

 

I swirl the wine in my glass as I watch, waiting for Isabella to pick our meal for the week. We obviously don’t drink the wine, but we have it to keep up appearances. While she sits next to me, picking apart their memories, I read each thought they currently have. It’s a difficult task, as I prefer to read Isabella’s as she digs, but over the years I’ve become better at multitasking. Of course Isabella was a tremendous help in teaching me how to control my rapidly changing emotions, and hone in my mind reading capabilities.

 

            Since that fateful day nearly sixty years ago, Isabella and I have been almost inseparable. In the beginning, she would leave to get our food, simply because I was too new and volatile to go out and roam the streets. Being apart from her was painful. That pain gave me the will to learn quickly, faster than any of her previous creations. Eight months after the change, I accompanied her on feeding trips. Two years after the change, we moved to America to start a new life together as mates.

 

            It gave me great pleasure and pride to be her mate. It was extremely difficult for Isabella to accept our bond, though. To truly love another wasn’t supposed to be in her nature and she’d grown rather used to the absence of love in her life. I’d seen her thoughts and memories of other lovers when certain things would remind her of them. She’d told me that she always felt something for each one, woman or man, but they ultimately didn’t have what it took to hold the place. Their hearts and morals couldn’t change enough for her to even try. She’d told me once that there were only a few that pained her to say goodbye to. It was then that she realized that we had something stronger than what she’d had with them. It hurt her to be away from me, even if it was just to hunt for us. That night, she did something that she said she’s never had to do before—she asked anyone who’d listen for her one and only favor. She wouldn’t tell me what she asked for, and I still don’t know if it was ever granted.

 

            It’s the only thing I’m forbidden to ask her about, or even try and read her thoughts on. She makes it easy though, by never thinking about it around me.

 

            “I have settled on two options,” Isabella says. I read her thoughts quickly, looking at the two when I see them in her mind. “Which do you prefer?”

 

            I read the men’s’ thoughts, seeing that they both have a particular interest in their waitress. She’s declined their advances, and they don’t like feeling, in their terms, emasculated. “Can’t we have both?” I ask with a mischievous smile. It’s my way of asking her to choose since she can see their past and I can’t.

 

            “I suppose it wouldn’t be such a horrible thing. They’ve had plenty to drink and one is bound to need use of the facilities soon. Or, I could speed things along?” I read her thoughts on that, not liking them, but agreeing. Our own selfish reasons are what drive the need to be alone with no clothes. She stands and walks between the tables of the high rollers gambling joint, her floor length green gown showing her beautiful curves as her sexy hips sway with each purposeful step.

 

She’s as old as humanity and has never needed someone to take care of her, nor has she wanted that.

 

I want her all to myself, so naturally I don’t like seeing her flirt with anyone. I’ve gotten much better at not showing it and realizing that she only does it so we can eat. It’s actually pretty fun to see the effects of her gifts as she dishes them out. One time, she truly released her libido enhancer in a bar. It was entertaining to watch couple after couple start kissing and groping. She had to stop when I wanted her too badly; we had to eat first. After, though, we raced back to the house and tore it apart. Broken tables and chairs, our bed, and even a wall was destroyed. It’s a good thing that we really have no use for human necessities.

 

            She eyes the one closest to her, making sure his eyes stay on her while she walks to the women’s restroom. They do and he soon bows out of the game, getting up from the table and walking to the men’s room, only to change direction for the women’s. Even after all these years, a part of me feels the need to go to her aid, but I never act on it. I have yet to see her wrath at its fullest, but I don’t doubt that Isabella’s rage can hold all the power of a wildfire. I still remember one of the first nights I went out with her to hunt. It was the one and only night out where I lost control, my gentlemanly ways clashing with my hunger.

 

            _The burlesque lounge is filled with men and women who want to enjoy the show. As I sit here, waiting for Isabella, the smell of their blood starts to overwhelm me. She said I could handle the short time away from her, that she trusted me to. I have to refrain; I have to keep her trust. Finally, after what seems like hours, I see her emerge from the back alley door. On her way back to me she passes a man holding a cigar between his lips, and receives a firm smack on her ass. She pauses, but I can’t see anything but him. My eyes turn black with anger, for he has touched what is mine and that is no way to treat a lady. I’m out of my seat and have lifted him from his in a matter of seconds, hauling him out to the alley where Isabella had just returned from._

_Once outside, I hold him against the brick wall. “That was my woman you just assaulted in there,” I growl out. “I’m not in the business of giving second chances, you know.”_

_“Who … are … you?” the human chokes out._

_I smile. “No one. I don’t exist.” Then, my teeth sink into his neck like a knife in butter. His blood gushes out, quenching my thirst for his lack of respect. He squirms in my hands as he tries to fight me off. All too soon, his body goes limp and I drink up the last remnants of his life, dropping him to the ground when I’ve finished. I’m immediately taken by the arm and dragged away from the alley by my love._

_“We need to hurry home.” Her tone is a forced calm. We run as fast as we can, looking like nothing but a blur to the human eye. When we reach the house, we’re able to slow to a walk. “That is not how we do things, and you know it.” I look at her, seeing a scowl marring her beautiful face. “You caused a scene, Edward. I won’t stand for it, mate or not. Is that understood?” Her tone becomes harsher as she speaks._

_“Yes, I understand. But he touched you in a way that should have made you feel less than what you are. How could I not defend you? How did you not feel lesser when he did that? How is what I did not part of the freedom I’ve gained from being your mate?”_

_Her glare hardens. “You let me violate your justice and desecrate what you love. You let me penetrate your soul and complicate who you are. You think you can still be free from my rules just because you’re my ‘mate’? Think again, love. I own your soul. I am not human and I never was. So why are you expecting me to act like one? And had you not interfered, he would have seen that I am not lesser.” I don’t speak another word. She’s right—as she always is—and it’s my turn to stop acting like a human when I no longer am one. She is my mate, whether she wants to admit it yet or not, but I belong to her. Even if I can only get her to embrace the human emotion of love, I still have to start embracing her ways as well._

 

            I’m pulled from the memory when my meal stands and makes his way to the restroom. I stand, follow him, and take what I need. During my feeding I hear my love’s thoughts, saying that she has finished and is waiting out back for me. My need to be with her grows by the millisecond and I drink faster, finishing rather quickly. I race out the doors, no one the wiser, standing by her side by the time the restroom door closes completely.

 

            “I’d like to go home, but I feel this need to get dirty with you.” _Give me your bloody kiss and fuck me against this wall._ Her voice and thought holds so much want that I’d be an idiot to ignore. Since her acceptance of our mating, not long after that night in my memory, she’s felt freer and loves to hand over the reins of control. She loves it when I dominate her.

 

            Capturing her mouth with mine, I walk us until her back hits the wall of the building across from the one we were just in. The blood of our meals mix together as our kiss continues on its hungry path. Isabella’s hands make quick work of the buttons of my pants. As soon as I’ve lifted her dress up over her hips, my dick is free from its confines. I grip her ass, lifting her up, her legs locking around my waist. Panties are never an issue, since she never wears them. I rub the head of my cock through her folds, feeling her wet and ready for me. A flash of light in the sky illuminates us for a half second and I thrust up and in at the same time the boom of thunder is heard.

 

            We don’t care about that. We just care about what we want, and what we want is each other, like this, right now, regardless of who sees us. The rain starts to fall lightly, then soon it’s like the sky is trying to drown us with its tears. Some people run from the rain, trying to stay as dry as possible. We dance in it, bask in it, wanting to be drenched in it like our hearts and souls have been by the blood of wrongdoers.

 

            Isabella comes hard, putting a death grip on my dick. “Fuck. You’re so tight and I can’t stop it,” I say, feeling the tightness in my balls. She pushes us away from the wall, telling me with her thoughts to drop to my knees. I do as she says, and she fucks me until I’m coming a few short moments later, biting her shoulder and drawing blood from the intensity. Because biting is arousing, Isabella comes again, only lasting half as long as her previous, just as I finish. I help her ride it to the end by rubbing her clit with my thumb, thoroughly enjoying the way she looks and feels.

 

Once we’ve regained our composure, we straighten our soaked clothes and walk out of hiding. Not one block away from where our passion was explored, I hear a thought that puts me on edge.

 

            _What is he to her? That was never acceptable when I was hers._

 

            I tilt my head, knowing he must be like us, but not wanting to alert him to my gift. Instead, I whisper to Isabella that we have company and he does not like what he saw in the alley. She changes our direction, leading us and our tagalong down another street where she can get an upper hand. We stop to look at a darkened display in a storefront. She catches the man’s reflection from his spot across the street and hisses her displeasure at his face.

 

            “Demitri.” _He’s been nothing but a pain to me for over three hundred years._ “He needs to be dealt with.” _The fucker doesn’t know when to let go sometimes._ I hum in agreement. I can see clearly in his mind that he wants her and wants me dead, for good.

 

            “I’ll follow your lead, love,” I express, glancing over at her, even though it’s not needed.

 

            “Then, shall we?” she asks, just before she leaves my side, racing to catch Demitri. She barely reaches him, tearing his jacket in half when he briefly slips through her hold. Once her hold is firm, a hand goes to his throat and squeezes as she pulls him back away from the wall, only to smack him back against it. Cracks form in the wall, spreading out a foot from where his body collided with it. “Hello, Demitri. I’d say it’s nice to see you, but I don’t lie. Why are you following us?”

 

            “I just wanted to see you, Mistress. I’ve missed you and no one can live up to your greatness.” _Not to mention stamina._ I involuntarily growl at his thought.

 

            Isabella smirks and tilts her head, eyeing him closely. “Aww, isn’t that sweet? I’m sorry to inform you —well, actually, I’m not—but I do not miss you.” She digs her nails into his skin, drawing blood and making his face twist in pain. “And, as you can see, I’ve moved on to bigger and much better things.” She turns her words to me, now, without taking her attention off of her ex. “Edward, my love. I know you’d like to have a bit of fun with our guest here, but alas, I need him to do something for me first.”

 

            “And what do you want from him, my Isabella?” A mixture of confusion, fear, and curiosity pass over his face. By speaking her name in the presence of a former, I’ve stated that I’ve earned the right. He’s hurt by this knowledge and not sure how he should feel about what she needs from him.

 

“He speaks your name, Mistress. Why him and not me?” he whines.

 

_Pathetic._

 

            She smirks before answering. “Because he’s something you never had the chance to be. He’s my mate. As far as you are concerned, you can do a job for me. You see, I want to throw a masquerade ball on All Hollow’s Eve in a long overdue celebration of my mating. I want as many vampires in attendance as possible. Inform them that they are welcome to bring a dessert, but they must be to my standards. If they don’t know them, tell them. To ensure the exclusivity, we will be at the rundown Jewish Synagogue in the Lower East Side of Manhattan, and attendees must arrive with a red rose in hand as their gift. You’ve proven yourself obedient before, Demitri. Do this for me—your Mistress—and I’ll spare you. If you return for my ball, you will be respectful, or I’ll let Edward have some fun.”

 

            He looks over to me and I give him a sinister smile. From Isabella’s thoughts, I know he can’t tell what “fun” would entail, since his gift is only a heightened sense of smell for tracking. He’s basically the vampire version of the blood hound dog breed. I snort at the analogy, earning a raised eyebrow from my love and an odd look from Demitri. “I’ll let you in on that thought when he gets on his way.”

 

            “Yes. I think you should be going now, don’t you?” Her tone sounds both light and condescending, matching her smile. She releases his throat and takes a step back.

 

            Demitri straightens his clothes and complies. “Yes, my lady.” He glances my way for a split second and then sets out on his journey.

 

            “Should I feel insulted by his lack of respect towards me? I mean, I am the Mistress’ beloved, after all.”

 

            She shakes her head in amusement at my half serious words. “Not yet. Once the introduction has been made at the ball, then you can put others in their place when appropriate.”

 

            I offer her my arm and she loops her own through as we start walking again. “I’m going to assume you have some friends who are willing to secure the location?” She nods, telling me with her mind that she plans to speak with them tomorrow. “I’m curious to see who and how many will show. Has there ever been a reception of sorts to recognize other mated pairs?” How many of her previous creations will express their hatred for me?

 

            “There has, but none by me and certainly none on the scale that ours will be. I haven’t gone to all I’ve been invited to for various reasons, but I have been to several, even if I was only able to make an appearance and congratulate them. If I couldn’t attend, I always sent a congratulatory letter along with a brief reason as to why I’d be absent.” _Speaking of absent…_ “I still don’t know what humored you earlier.” I smile and tell her my blood hound thought. She laughs too, agreeing that it is funny.

 

            We hurry home after that to spend time naked, drawing lazily on each other’s bodies and creating love notes on each other’s skin with our lips and teeth.

 

~OVD~

 

            “What color should we wear? I prefer red, black, or blue—or black with one of the others.” Isabella asks from her spot at the end of the lounge chair. She’s been watching me tickle the ivories of our piano for the last hour. “I think I need something new, but the style of this age isn’t my absolute favorite.”

 

            “Hmm. Well, I love you in nothing, but I don’t want anyone but me to see that.” She laughs and it’s beautiful. I live for her happiness. “You’re stunning in anything, love. But, if I had to choose,” I pause to think, “red and black is perfect. It suits us well. May I go with you?”

 

We could go on an overcast day when the sun’s rays are hidden, but it’s not necessary for the upscale stores. I’ve braved the sting before, but the needle pricks and itching all over the exposed skin is so annoying that it’s disorienting and makes it hard to focus. The burning pain I feel if the true light touches me is excruciating, but I had to try it once. It was after I had asked Isabella for something that I wasn’t allowed to ask about. Suffice to say, I can’t be caught in the daylight rays.

 

            “Yes, of course. We’ll go as soon as possible.”

 

~OVD~

 

            Two nights later, we shop for our attire. We first acquire mine, and then hers. As we browse for her dress, a couple enters and their conversation draws my attention.

 

            “How do you know that man?” a female voice asks.

 

            “He’s a friend of Maria, not to mention her maker,” the male voice grits out. His thoughts do little to hide his dislike for this Maria and the man who—

 

            _Fuck. Demitri._

 

            “Well, I’m very proud of you for not killing him,” the girl praises. “Now, do you know who this Mistress is? I know we can meet up with Carlisle first and go together.”

 

            “No. I’ve heard rumors from eavesdropping, but I’ve never met her. Demi seemed afraid of her, though.”

 

            I choose then to calmly walk over to Isabella, who is in the back corner of the room looking at jewelry. I quietly inform her of the couple and what I’ve heard. As I suspected, she’s not happy with the mention of Demitri and the potential chaos he’s caused. She wants to have a word with these two.

 

            I follow in step behind her as she makes her way over to them. “Hello. What are your names?”

 

            Taken a little off guard by her straight-forwardness, they quickly regain themselves, but it’s the girl who happily takes charge. “Oh, hi. I’m Alice Brandon and this is Jasper Whitlock. And you are?”

 

            My love smiles politely. “I’m Isabella and this is Edward. Forgive me, but I couldn’t help it and overheard some of your conversation. What is Carlisle’s last name?”

 

            “Um, Cullen. Do you know him?”

 

Isabella gives a look of recognition and a small smile plays on her beautiful mouth. ‘ _No need to get protective, Edward,’_ she thinks and I inwardly roll my eyes. I’m not that bad. Aloud she says, “It’s been nearly four hundred years, so I went by a different name. When you do see him, please, do tell him that Lily sends her love, and I hope to see him at my celebration.”

 

            There’s a pause as Jasper and Alice study her. Then, Alice straightens up a little, and wears a tight smile. She’s made the connection and her attitude changes. “Forgive me, but we’ve heard stories. Demitri made Maria, and she made Jasper. He says she wasn’t kind.”

 

            “I hope you don’t mind my boldness, but I was under the impression that you weren’t nice, either,” Jasper says, a hardened face in place to try and show he’s not afraid. His eyes, though, give him away.

 

“There’s no need to be so formal and I don’t mind the boldness. I may be the oldest, but you aren’t one of my previous subjects, nor are either of you in the line of fire. Demitri was obedient, but he liked to test me. I can assure you that he will be held accountable for his unsanctioned actions. This Maria as well … if you want, of course.” She looks expectantly between the two.

 

“You’d do that for him … for us?”

 

Isabella nods. “Yes. While Maria was never mine, Demitri is my responsibility, as are all those I create or even take in.” Her face turns a little darker and I smirk at her errant thoughts. I get to have some fun with him after all. “Anyway, I really need to get back to finding my gown. I hope to see you both again at the party.”

 

Not long after separating, she finds her dress. When she steps out from behind the curtain, I suddenly want to be alone with her. If I needed to breathe, she’d take my breath away with how sinful she looks. “You are exquisite, love. I’m going to have a hard time controlling my temper with all the thoughts everyone will have, not to mention keeping my hands from wandering. I’m beginning to think you love to get a rise out of me.”

 

She smirks. _Oh, yes. Your rise in temper is as hot as the rise in your pants._

 

I shake my head. “You truly are an evil temptress. It’s a good thing I love you that way.”

 

“As I love you.”

 

I groan. “Go change before I rip it off of you and we have to look for another.”

 

~OVD~

 

            The night of our ball and our formal announcement has come. Many are out and about in costume, holding up the now evolved tradition of confusing demons into leaving them alone. It’s the one night in the year where a masquerade on such a large scale is seen as just another way to have fun while deceiving demons away from attacking human souls. Little do they know that their thoughts are flawed, that the demons see right through their mentality and that nothing can hide you from their sight.

 

            At sunset, when the sun’s rays disappear, Isabella and I fasten our masks and start our walk to the rundown building. We aren’t in too much of a rush, so we take our time, admiring the decorations and costumes the humans have chosen to showcase. Laughter, screams, and more laughter from realizing what the scream was for not can be heard everywhere. When we reach the synagogue, a man and a woman stand in close proximity to each other in front of the door. Their attire says they’re there for us, so they have to be the two who have set everything up for us.

 

            We cross the street and Isabella greets them without letting her hold on me go. “Ah, Chelsea, Afton. How are you two this evening?” They reply in the positive and express their excitement over tonight’s event. “I assume everything’s in order and ready to be seen?”

 

            “Of course, my lady,” Chelsea says. They open the double doors, holding them until we’ve passed over the threshold.

 

            Inside, everything is lit by lanterns, and hundreds of candles on the scattered tables and in the chandeliers. Garlands of white roses with streaks of red drape the balconies, with black and red petals decorating the table-tops. Since there’s a possibility that we may have some human attendees, finger foods are out and wine glasses have been placed on the tables, along with plates and utensils and three bottles of red wine. With the twenty tables that each seat six in two long rows, the center of the room is clear to serve as the dance floor. At the front of the room where there’s a raised section, two chairs sit side-by-side. They’re both different from all the others, but match each other with the only difference being the color of fabric. A few other chairs are set up on the side by the piano, reserved for our violinists and cellists.

 

It’s a good thing money is very much available to us.

 

“What do you think, Edward?”

 

I smile and look down at her beautiful face, lifting her hand to my lips. “I think it’s perfect,” I say just before kissing her knuckles. “I’m sure I don’t need to ask, but which one will you be sitting in?”

 

“I’m already wearing red, so I can make an exception for tonight and take the black chair.”

 

“Switching things up, I see,” I tease.

 

“Well, I can’t always be predictable, my love. Where would the fun go?”

 

I want to kiss her, but the interruption from Chelsea has me stopping. “Pardon us, my lady. Your guests should be arriving shortly. Would you like to greet them as they enter, or would you like Afton and I to do it?” I hear a slight tremor in her voice, matching the fear in her thoughts from the need to intrude.

 

We’ve discussed what we thought was best for the night, choosing to have me greet along with these two, but without Isabella present. It would give me time to read people, see their thoughts on her and tonight, and see how many are human as well. She tells them the vague plan and then leaves to roam about the building. I follow Chelsea and Afton to the front entrance, where they take their previous spots outside the doors. I take my place down the hall, in front of the main doors of the room.

 

One by one they come and fill the room. Most are delighted for the mistress, but others are either indifferent, wondering why they were invited, or are former subjects here to see what her mate is made of. No matter their thoughts I always play it off, giving the impression that I hadn’t heard them. Same goes for all the thoughts that were directed at me from all the unmated vampires who found me appealing. Demitri does show up, unaccompanied and with unhappy thoughts towards me. We’re both short in our greeting, not bothering to mask our dislike. Sometime in the middle, when there’s a pause between guests, Isabella sneaks into the room, blending in with the crowd. By the time it seems everyone is present we’re at capacity, with two hundred and fifty bodies all gathered on the main floor and in the balconies. With vampires taking the majority, the fifty-six humans have no idea what’s in for them. As requested, no human who didn’t deserve death was brought. Once Chelsea and Afton have entered the room I follow, closing the doors behind me.

 

Casually walking through the clustered bodies, I hone my hearing for the one voice I will never tire of. When I hear it, I head for the front. I see her chatting with a blond-haired man who has a woman with caramel-colored hair at his side. They’re among those whom are pleased to be here. I immediately go to her, not wanting to be apart any longer.

 

“Isabella,” I say, gaining her attention. She turns her gaze to mine briefly, then back to the couple. She slips her hand in mine, smiling. “Everyone has arrived.”

 

“Good. Edward, this is Carlisle and his wife, Esme. They live in Alaska for the moment.”

 

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard wonderful things about you,” I say with a smile, sticking my arm out for a handshake. “A doctor, are you not?”

 

He takes my hand, giving it a nice firm, but quick shake. “Yes. It used to be difficult, but with practice it has become easier to handle.”

 

“Mr. and Mrs. Cullen are vegetarians,” Isabella states, then in her mind says that they drink animal blood instead.

 

“Yes, well … it’s my way of giving back,” Carlisle says. I can see that he really didn’t want this life, but found that he could do good with it like he was doing before the change.

 

“It’s been a pleasure to see you again, but I think it’s time to make introductions,” Isabella states. They bow their heads quickly, like a single slow nod, and we turn to make our way over to the side of the platform. We stand there, looking at the mass, taking them all in. I start looking for those whose thoughts aren’t positive towards myself or their lady, memorizing their mental voices for later.

 

Eleazar walks over, giving my mate a kiss on her hand. “My lady. Are you ready to begin?” Isabella had told me about this man’s gift and said that he’d be a great speaker and help deal with any executions. Eleazar has the ability of gift-reading, meaning he can see what ability a vampire possesses. Knowing the specialty will help determine their threat level when faced with death. Isabella says yes, and he steps up onto the platform, standing a few feet in front of the throne-like chairs. We, however, make a sneaky exit in order to enter from the back, like our guests had when they arrived.

 

“Ladies and gentleman,” Eleazar starts off, and the room goes quiet as everyone focuses their attention solely on him. As we stand behind the doors, we hear him continue, “We have gathered here tonight to pay respects to our mistress and her mate, so let’s show our love and appreciation as she has done for us.” An applause breaks out and we open the doors. The crowd turns to watch as we enter, parting like the Red Sea as we take our place in the middle. “My lady, master—the floor is all yours.”

 

We take our dance position and when the violins start, the magnificent voice of the opera singer Isabella befriended in Rome begins. With our eyes locked, we bow to each other. Then with our right arms out, Isabella’s hand resting on mine, we circle around once, bringing her back to my front. I guide her around once more, slowly spinning her out to the side and then back in, making our chests meet. She reaches up with her free hand and removes my mask, and then I remove hers. Once they’ve been tossed towards the front, our feet move in step to a waltz. The slow and haunting tune soon picks up speed, our eyes and thoughts never leaving each other.

 

“Have I told you yet how absolutely breathtaking you are?” I whisper to her.

 

“Mmm. You may have mentioned it a time or two,” she whispers back with a delicate smile.

 

“Well, that just won’t do.” She laughs lightly. “You laugh now, but if you’re not careful, I may show our guests just how irresistible I find you.”

 

“Oh, I’ll laugh if I want. You seem to have forgotten that I know you, my Edward. You don’t want to share that which you love most.” I smile because she’s right. Releasing my hold on her back, she spins once around, then comes back to me.

 

“That may be true, but I can still show my worthiness if I kiss those luscious lips,” I hedge on. I remember back to the first night I spent with her and decide to take a page from her book. “C’mon, my sweet beauty. Just a taste?”

 

Her thoughts are loud and she’s aroused by the words I’ve thrown back at her, but her voice stays at a whisper. “I look forward to the end of our first dance.”

 

The music seems to be dragging and never ending, making the anticipation we feel grow every second. Finally, we’ve come close to the end. I guide her to place her back to my front, never letting her hand go as her arm goes across her middle. Her neck is bared and begging my lips to touch it. My nose skims up to her ear as I drag my other hand across her stomach. I refrain from doing more—barely—and turn her to face me once more. The moment has finally come and I lean forward as she arches back for the dip. Her head falls back and I lean over her, running my nose and the tip of my tongue up her throat. My hand goes to the back of her head where I raise it up and attach my lips to hers. Being mindful of our surroundings, I stand us up seconds after our kiss starts, only to end it once we’re upright. An applause breaks out and we walk hand-in-hand up to the chairs on the platform, taking our seats.

 

Eleazar makes his way up to us, a small smile on his face. “You two really know how to start things right.” He turns to address the crowd. “Why don’t we continue the dancing in honor of our lovely couple?” He claps twice, signaling the musicians and our guests to get ready.

 

While some dance, those who pause to take a break come over and greet us, giving their congratulatory words and placing their roses into one of the six large vases. While everyone has nothing but nice things to say, there are still some who have ill thoughts towards me and inappropriate thoughts about the woman at my side. Garrett is one of them, still wishing he had my place.

 

I lean over to whisper in her ear, “When may I put some in their place? Their thoughts are aggravating.”

 

“In an hour when the humans have been taken care of. Then, we will address those who have a problem with us.” I nod, letting out a sigh. She gives my hand a squeeze, then says, “We could always sneak off for a quickie?” I laugh lightly at the appealing suggestion, but shake my head, telling her we have a duty to stay visible. “Okay. How about we dance some more, then.”

 

Now, that I can definitely get on board with. I’m always up for some foreplay. Keeping her hand in mine, we stand and join the other couples on the floor. We dance the entire hour, the whole room seeming to fall away as we rarely take our eyes off one another. With one final dip, we close the hour and the time for dessert opens.

 

Eleazar makes himself known, bringing everyone’s attention up front once again. “Our final dance for the evening has arrived. Those of you, who have brought a little something extra, please make your way to the center and you are welcome to it at the end … and there’s no need to be greedy. If you’re not participating, please go to the outside of the floor,” he says with a knowing smirk.

 

Our opera singer starts out low, bringing in the violinists at the same tone. Those of us on the floor start out as we had for the first dance, bowing to one another before starting. The piano and cellos come in and soon the tempo picks up speed a little to continue playing their last devilish sound. We all move our feet, seemingly floating on air. Moving erotically like vertical sex on hardwood floors, our tango builds both the anticipation of feeding and pure lust. As the song comes to a close, the final dips are accompanied by the cries of pain from the humans as teeth sink into their flesh, blood spilling onto clothes and the floor. It wouldn’t be a vampire party without a little blood and the scene is marvelous. Isabella and I take any offered to us due to the fact that it’s rude to turn down a gift.

 

When all is said and done, Isabella calls over Eleazar, telling him that we would like to see Demitri. As he goes to find him, we stay on the dance floor, not wanting to look like how we feel most days: royal. We hear a commotion from our left and look to the source. Eleazar has found Demitri and has him by the collar of his shirt as he forces him our way.

 

Finally in front of us, he looks scared and tries to reason with his mistress. “My lady, please. I did what you asked of me. Why does it seem like I’m in trouble?”

 

“You’re not here because of that. No, you’re here because of Maria and the result of that mistake.” His eyes widen and his mouth falls open in surprise. “You know my gift, so don’t try to hide it from me. I see that you’re not as innocent in her war as you’d like me to believe. Tell me, did you really think I wouldn’t find out?” He looks back and forth between her and I, his thoughts everywhere. “Edward, would you do the honors of taking from his neck?”

 

“Finally,” I say with a sinister smile.

 

Eleazar holds one of Demitri’s arms behind him while the other is held by Isabella. He struggles and pleads for mercy, but when we bite, he stops, knowing it’s a lost cause. I attack his neck as she takes from the elbow crease, and together we drain about half his blood supply. We pull back, watching him sway on his feet. Eleazar pulls the arm Isabella had back to hold him, then Isabella’s hand collides and punches through his chest. A grunt of surprise escapes Demitri’s throat from the force and his body hunches over slightly. When she pulls her hand out, his heart comes with. Eleazar kicks the back of his knees, making them buckle and he falls to them. I grip his face and twist, breaking the bones in his neck and either pinching or severing the spinal cord. I let go, stepping just off to the side when Eleazar releases his hold, letting Demitri drop to the floor. His body won’t have enough venom and blood to fix that, especially without that vital organ to pump it. Besides, once the sun rises, there won’t be a body left. She crushes his heart in her hands, turning it to dust.

 

“El, why don’t we have some more dancing and conversation,” Isabella says, wanting to move this party along. As we make our way to the platform and stand in front of our chairs, Afton removes Demitri’s body to dispose of out the back of the building, where no one but the sun will see it.

 

Those who didn’t come up during the dancing before do so now, congratulating us. I notice Garrett is a few people ahead of Alice and Jasper, which I find a little unfortunate. I would have preferred to have talked to them first.

 

“Ah, Garrett. How have you been?” Isabella asks, only to state pleasantries.

 

“I’ve been well, my lady. I do hope this doesn’t offend you and your… mate … but I’d be better if I could have one last dance.” _Perhaps a little time with me will remind you of what we had._

 

“I don’t think so … what was your name again? Jared?”

 

He looks at me with thinly veiled hate. “Garrett.”

 

I wave my hand dismissively. “Whatever. You had your time and from what I know about it, it wasn’t all that special for her. Perhaps you should stop thinking that you can change her mind. She has me now.”

 

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah … for now.”

 

“Garrett,” Isabella warns. “Don’t push it.”

 

“Please, my lady. Him, really? I had you before and I’m free to try again. I’ve changed and you’d see that if you’d let me—“

 

“Free?!” Isabella’s voice raises in anger. I look to her, seeing her eyes snap with fire. “I will tell you again what I did on that day all those years ago. You were nothing to me but an old flame whose fire went out a long time ago. You think you are free to push my buttons and not feel my full wrath?” Her harsh tone leaves no room for argument. His mouth hardens into a thin line, but his eyes show a bit of fear. “Have you forgotten your place with me?” A calmness is attached to her voice, which only means to tread lightly. His next words will determine his fate.

 

“Excuse me, Garrett, is it?” The voice and intrusion of Alice disrupts the tension. “Forgive me, my lady, for the intrusion, but I have a solution.” She swallows, waiting for a sign that will let her continue.

 

Isabella nods at her. “You may proceed.”

 

Alice looks back to Garrett. “If a mate is what you’re searching for, Kate Denali is who you need to find.” Confused, he asks her how she could know that. She smiles, happy to have shifted his focus and stopped a potential killing. However, I’m equally disappointed as I am curious. “I can see the future, but I can’t see when exactly in time things happen, just that they will. I see you with a long blond-haired woman by the name of Kate Denali. I may have a friend who knows her.” We all stand there, waiting for the next move to happen, whatever it might be. After he thinks about what Alice had said, he takes a step back and walks away with a huff.

 

“Although I hate being interrupted, I have to say thank you, Alice,” Isabella states, turning away from Garrett’s retreating form.

 

“Major conflict can be disastrous. Besides, he’s jealous and needed to know that there’s one out there for him. I believe everyone should feel the power of a mated connection.”

 

“You have a kind heart and I hope your life with Jasper is well with the Cullens.”

 

Alice and Jasper, along with Carlisle and Esme, leave shortly after, but not before speaking with us one last time. It turns out that the Cullens are the one who know the Denalis. They leave with the hope of seeing us again in the near future.

 

A few short minutes later, a man by the name of Santiago approaches us. “Mistress, Sir,” he greets, barely glancing at me. His mind shows that he has no respect for me, regardless of things that have transpired tonight. I’ll have to change that.

 

“Santiago, how are you this fine night?” Isabella asks.

 

“I’m superb, My Lady. Of course, if I had someone as beautiful as you on my arm, I’d be happier.”

 

“Well, you’ll have to look elsewhere. Isabella is taken, in case you’ve forgotten what this party is about.” I interject before she can. I’m already so sick of others trying to convince her what they think she’s missing. It’s fucking pissing me off.

 

Respect and lust leave his eyes as he finally turns his attention to me. “I do believe our Mistress can speak for herself, _Sir_.” He spits out my informal title like it’s poison.

 

“You are correct, Santiago; I can speak for myself. However, Edward is also correct. He’s my mate, thus your Master and has just as much power here as I. Submit and show respect to your Master as you would me, or you will suffer the consequences.” Isabella’s tone is firm and commanding, leaving no room for argument…at least for the smart ones.

 

Santiago’s lips curl into a snarl as we stare each other down. “I have the utmost respect for you, Mistress, but I cannot and will not hold the same for _him_ ,” he says.

 

I don’t wait for Isabella’s approval as it was already given. My right arm lifts and my hand flattens against his chest and I push him. The force of my shove forces Santiago backwards, landing on his back on a table fifty feet away. The table breaks, but who really gives a shit? I race over to him and before he’s picked himself up, I have my hand around his throat and his feet off the floor. I slam him back down into the broken table and straddle waste, my shins pinning his legs down. He tries to punch me, but I’m faster. Catching his fist and twisting, I break his wrist, delighted when a yelp escapes his mouth. His free hand grabs the forearm of the hand squeezing his throat and he tries, in vain, to pull it away.

 

            “Are you ready to submit to your Master?” I ask loud enough for him and our onlooking guests to hear clearly.

 

            Santiago closes his mouth and his lips fall into a hard line. His thoughts are clear before he vocalizes them. “I will never.”

 

            “So be it,” I say as I release his broken wrist. I thrust my fist into his chest, breaking his ribs on the way in. I find his heart less than a half second later, ripping it out. I lift my hand so it’s between us and he can see his heart, then I squeeze and crush it, letting the dust settle on the rubble beside his head. “Have fun in Hell,” I say, then break his neck for good measure.

 

            I stand and address the crowd, “Is there anyone else who wants to test your Master or Mistress?” There’s a collective of ‘No, Master’ or ‘No, Sir’s. Satisfied, I turn and take my place next to Isabella again.

 

Conversations start up again like nothing happened and our party goes on until three in the morning with no other problems. Suffice to say that most of those who had any problems with either of us decided to leave after Santiago’s death and hearing about Garrett. They were either scared of their potential fate if we came to know their dislike, or came to the conclusion that I was good enough. As we make our way back to our house, we snag up a snack to share, filling our bodies with energy.

 

When we walk through the door, she stops our steps from going further in. She turns to me, a knowing look in her eyes as she walks towards me and backs me up to the door. “You were very hot back there with Santiago and Garrett.”

 

“Me?” I shake my head. “Not as hot as you, and please, can we not speak their names anymore?”

 

She smiles. “Never again. But apart from that, you’ve been in my thoughts all night. You know I’ve done nothing but think about how much I want you.” She slides her hands up my chest and under my jacket, sliding it over and off my shoulders. “How much I want your mouth on my pussy.” Her fingers undo the buttons on my shirt. “How much I want your dick inside me.” Her hands loosen my pants and free my cock. I moan at the feeling of her hands on me. “And how much I want to just be consumed by you.” Her hand keeps the slow up and down pace as she leaves open-mouthed kisses on my chest. “We’ve had slow and sweet just as much as fast and hard, but I don’t think I can take it slow.”

 

She doesn’t even need to think it for me to know what she wants. “You want to break things?” She hums in agreement, flicking my nipple with her tongue, then blowing on it. “Well, then, I only have one last question.”

 

 _“And what would that be?”_ She thinks.

 

“Do you want to keep your dress intact?”

 

_“Do with it what you please. Just fuck me already.”_

 

I waste no time in ripping the satin, crisscrossed ribbon in the back of her corset and throwing it to the side. She, in return, tears my pants off, effectively freeing my legs and more importantly, my cock. Next I rip her skirt right off, throwing it somewhere in same vicinity of her discarded top. Picking her up by her ass, she wraps her legs around my waist, locking her ankles as her hands grip my face as our lips mold together in a heated kiss. I slam her against the wall, putting a decent dent in it, I’m sure, and earning a grunt from her.

 

“You want me to fuck you, yeah?” I take my dick and rub it through her wet folds, coating me in preparation and teasing her.

 

She moans, thinking, _“Yes!”_

 

“You want me to dominate you?” I just need to hear it.

 

“Yes, love. Show me what you’re made of, my Master.”

 

I growl at the new name that I’ve earned. I line myself up and thrust hard into her as I bite down on her shoulder, tasting her blood. Isabella screams out at the duel feelings of surprise and pleasure. I feel her nipples harden further against my bare chest, her love for me marking her evident in her physical reactions as well as her thoughts. I pull out only to thrust back in just as hard. She claws my back, tearing my shirt into shreds until it’s useless and scratching my back in the process.

 

I lean back, slightly pulling her away from the wall. I take my hand, placing it just below her throat to keep her upper back and head against the wall as I start to pound into her relentlessly. With a hand holding my bicep and the other on my forearm, her nails dig into me as she nears her orgasm, which crashes down on us with little warning. Her cries are like music to my ears. When she comes down off her high, I pull her back to me with every intention of kissing her, but she forces my head to turn and she bites me in the same spot where I had bitten her. I hiss at the pleasurable pain and I tighten my grip on her, walking us to the dining room and sitting in a chair.

 

“I love you, and I promise to fulfill your demand, but right now, I want you to take your pleasure.”

 

And does she. Bracing her hands behind her on my knees, she lifts her hips and sinks back down, swiveling and moving her body like a wave over me. My hands can’t find one place to stay, so they move over her thighs, hips and ribs before settling on her breasts. I roll her nipples with my fingers, making them pebble and sending jolts of pleasure all over her. I take one hand a way and bring my thumb to her throbbing clit, rubbing it in fast, tiny circles, making her legs shake. A hand leaves my leg and grips my shoulder as her pace quickens. I look at her face, watching as she comes undone, doing exactly what I told her to do.

 

“Ah! Fuck!” she whimpers out, slowing down a bit.

 

She stops moving, then gets off of me. I immediately feel the loss of her. Isabella grabs my hand, pulling me up to stand. She doesn’t speak, but is wearing a devious smile, and then launches herself at me. We topple over onto the table, breaking it in half and giggling. I guess, to her, we hadn’t done enough damage. I roll us over so I’m pinning her down and slide into her once more, moaning at the feeling of being home. I bring one of her legs up, hooking it over my shoulder and she hikes up the other to lock around my waist. With the new angle, I’m able to go deeper and hit that special spot, and she comes a third time not long after.

 

I pull out and lift her leg from around my waist, putting it on my other shoulder. Sliding my hands under her back, I pick her up to have her sitting on my shoulders, her pussy at my lips. I move us to another wall so she can feel a little more supported as I lick and suck her lower lips, tasting her arousal and drinking it all up like a man dying from thirst. Her fingers weave through my hair, gripping and pulling as she grinds against my face.

 

When I’ve brought her to the brink, but not all the way, I let her legs slip off and down. Standing her up on her shaky legs I take her hand, dragging her to the bedroom. “Bend over the end of the bed, baby.” She does as she’s told, bracing her hands on the footboard, feet a little wider than shoulder-width. Keeping her eyes on me, she smirks and arches her back a little.

 

_Perfect._

 

I take my place behind her and kneel, skimming my nose across her perfectly round cheeks, indulging in a few nips here and there. I decide to sample her sex once more, licking up and down a couple times, teasing her.

 

“I will never tire of your taste, love.”

 

She wiggles her ass at me, pushing back against me for a little friction, thinking, _“Hurry up.”_

 

I chuckle at the anxiousness I hear in her words. Deciding that I’ve teased her enough, I line myself up and slide in once more. I lean over her, wrap my hand around her chin, pulling her head back to kiss her forehead. “You are the best thing to ever happen to me.” I slide out and back in, then intertwine my free hand with one of hers on the footboard. “The darkness brought me to you.” I pull out and push back in, twice, harder, and she moans. Letting go of her chin, I intertwine our fingers of the other hand. “And I can’t live without either.”

 

            “Fuck,” she whispers out. I start to thrust faster, chasing my impending bliss. “You and me and the devil makes three.” She stutters as I feel her body tensing.

 

            I release her right hand, wrapping my arm over her chest to grip her left shoulder. “Yes. Come, Mistress. Show me how good I make you feel.” I grit out as my own orgasm closes in.

 

            Her cries and whimpers of pleasure escalate as her pussy walls clamp down and pulse around me harder than before. My balls tighten, my movements become erratic and I come with her, biting the opposite shoulder. She drops her head and sinks her own teeth into my wrist as we both come down from our euphoric highs.

 

            “Fuck, I love you, Edward.”

 

            “And I love you, Isabella.”

 

            I pull out, dropping my forehead to her shoulder blade, groaning and missing the connection already. She laughs and I look up at her when I stand. “We broke the footboard and put a nice dent in the wall.”

 

            I look and sure enough, our hands had smashed—disintegrated—and created two dips in the wood of footboard, and there’s a distinct outline of the headboard in the wall, not to mention it’s actually in the wall. I smile at our handy work.

 

~OVD~

 

            The next few days, we basically go through another honeymoon period. We never leave the house and never leave each other’s arms. A letter arrives, informing us the disposal of Demitri and Santiago’s bodies, as well as the humans’. Tonight, though, we need to eat. Apparently, it’s supposed to be cloudy at sunset, only giving off the colors and no other light. I want to take a walk in the park with my love. There’s just something even more beautiful, if possible, about her in that kind of light. We set out and the weather is perfect. It’s so perfect that I barely feel the usual discomfort that comes with it still being light out.

 

            As we walk, we come upon an opening in the trees where a still lake sits. I take her over to it, wanting to absorb its complete stillness that reminds me of a perfect night so many years ago.

 

            “The stillness of the water reminds me of the quiet I heard that night back in London,” I tell her. “I remember that I was afraid, but now, I crave it. I desire it like I thirst for blood, like I yearn for you.”

 

            Just then the clouds part, revealing the sun, and its light shines on us. I gasp, preparing for the burning pain that’s worse than the burning in my throat when I was reborn. Isabella’s eyes widen and she stands in front of me, blocking as best as she can while I duck down behind her. My love is too small to hide it all and some light still hits me.

 

            But, nothing happens.

 

            I feel pain, but it’s minimal, less than what a cloudy day normally feels. I look up at her, the love of my life, speechless. Her eyes are wide, showing her astonishment to what she’s witnessing, her mind blank.

 

            “It can’t be. How…?” I finally get out in a whisper.

 

            She blinks a few times, her gaze roaming every inch of light that still lingers. “Stand,” she says. I do, slowly, and expose my face to the sun. I squint at the brightness, although it’s not as bright as it could be. “What are you feeling? Any pain?”

 

            I shake my head. “No, but it stings a little, and it’s not nearly as uncomfortable as a pure overcast day. It’s … barely noticeable in comparison.”

 

            A big smile stretches across her face, one I only get to see when something makes her beyond happy. “My request was answered,” she says, her voice a whisper. “The one I forbade you to ask about—it was answered!” She pulls my face down to hers, kissing me fiercely. When she pulls back, she says the one thing that truly makes me her mate. “You were always equal to me, but now? We truly are equal in every way. No one will ever be like us, for no one but us can walk in the light; no one will ever take our place as the Devil’s Mistress and Master, His Arbitraries, and we will reign the night together … forever.”

 

            My hands frame her face as I smile and say, “I really love the sound of that.” I pull her mouth to mine, kissing her with all my love poured into it.

 

            We decide to sit on the bench and soak up the sunlight. Once night falls, we take our leave and do what we do best, thriving off the blood of those who deserve the fate.

 

 **A/N:** Well, that’s a wrap! I hope everyone enjoyed my twisted words throughout these three storylines! At this moment in time, this is all I can give you. I’m not saying I won’t write a fourth, because I’d like to and ideas have already started forming for it, but since I’m officially a full time college student, I won’t have anything new out for a while. So much love for everyone who has read and reviewed, or even just read and been a silent fan! *hearts*

 

The Jewish Synagogue that held their masquerade was (I think) established in 1949, but I’m not positive. It was abandoned at some point before an artist found it in the ‘70s and put it to use for his art. I obviously took creative liberties and made it abandoned earlier. There was a ‘Dracula’ inspired wedding held there and the photos were perfect for this story. I was imagining that it was bigger for the story than what it might actually be. I don’t know how big/small the building is in real life, so, again, some creative liberties might have been taken. Plus, I didn’t want them to have to travel back to Europe, lol.


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